THE  BRIDE  OF 

MISSION  SAN  JOSE 


JOHN  AUGUSTINE  CULI 


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The  Bride  of  Mission 
San  Jose 

A  Tale  of  Early  California 

By 
JOHN  AUGUSTINE  CULL 


THE  ABINGDON  PRESS 

NEW  YORK  CINCINNATI 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  SERENADE  IN  THE  MOONLIGHT 7 

II.  THE  LION  AND  THE  LAMB  LIE  DOWN  TOGETHER  17 

III.  A  DIP  INTO  THE  PAST 30 

IV.  A  STRANGER  VISITS  SENOR  MENDOZA 43 

V.  ANOTHER  STRANGER  MAKES  A  VISIT 57 

VI.  THE  MERIENDA 69 

VII.  A  NIGHT  SPENT  IN  A  CAVE 88 

VIII.  THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS 104 

IX.  SENORA  VALENTINO  SEEKS  TO  INTEREST  PADRE 

OSUNA 125 

X.  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  BALL  AT  SENOR  MEN- 

DOZA'S  HACIENDA  HOUSE 139 

XI.  AT  THE  SUPPER 153 

XII.  CARMELITA  DANCES  EL  SON 162 

XIII.  RETURNING  FROM  THE  BALL 175 

XIV.  O'DONNELL  TAKES  A  HORSEBACK  RIDE 190 

XV.  SENORA  VALENTINO  MAKES  A  REPORT 200 

XVI.  THE  SENORITA  OF  THE  WINDOW  PANE 210 

XVII.  O'DONNELL  SETTLES  WITH  YOSCOLO 224 

XVIII.  FARQUHARSON  MEETS  WITH  A  Loss 237 

XIX.  SENORA    VALENTINO    AND   CAPTAIN    MORANDO 

CONTINUE  CONVERSATION 253 

XX.  BITTER  SWEET 264 

XXI.  A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES , « . 277 

XXII.  ALMOST—..                                                           .  294 


6  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIII.  PEDRO  ZELAYA  BRINGS  IMPORTANT  NEWS 306 

XXIV.  THE  NEXT  DAY 317 

XXV.  BROWN  TAKES  A  HAND  AT  DIPLOMACY 331 

XXVI.  BRAVING  THE  STORM 347 

XXVII.  BUT  YET  A  WOMAN 367 

XXVIII.  A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  DE  LA  MENDOZA 385 

XXIX.  A  DEPARTURE 417 

XXX.  ODDS  AND  ENDS 422 

XXXI.  ACROSS  THE  YEARS 431 

XXXII.  A  WEDDING..  .  441 


CHAPTER  I 
A  SERENADE  IN  THE  MOONLIGHT 

AIRER  art  thou  than  the  lily,  than  the  rose  more 
sweet,"  sang  a  mellow  baritone  voice.  A  guitar 
thrummed  accompaniment.  At  the  end  of  his  im 
provisation  the  singer  waved  the  instrument  gracefully, 
now  in  sweeping  stroke,  again  in  shorter  measure,  as 
if  he  were  a  maestro  directing  his  musicians.  Then 
he  touched  the  strings  in  melancholy  strain: 

"Beat,  beat,  little  dove,  thy  tender  wings  against  thy 
iron  cage." 

Next  triumphantly  he  intoned : 

"Fly  away,  little  dove,  fly  away;  the  cruel  bars  are 
broken." 

Once  more  in  pantomime  he  directed  his  fancied 
musicians. 

"What  is  it,  Don  Alfredo?  Art  fanning  thyself,  or 
do  mosquitoes  annoy  thee?" 

He  looked  upward  into  a  pair  of  dark,  laughing  eyes 
not  three  feet  distant. 

"O,  Dona  Carmelita,"  rapturously,  "I  was  marking 
rhythm  for  the  angel  choirs  which  sing  in  praise  of  thy 
beauty  and  charm.  They  sing  of  one  angel,  even  thou, 
Dona  mia,  more  fair  than  they." 

The  girl  withdrew  from  the  embrasure,  brushing  her 
fan  across  its  iron-barred  front. 

7 


8        THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  shut  out,  Don  Alfredo,  thy  foolish  words.  I  drive 
them  back  into  the  air.  I  fear  the  angels  are  displeased 
at  thy  presumption.  Many  nights  have  you  sung  here 
meaningless  words,  empty  nothings ;  but  even  better 
such  than  to  speak  thoughts  which  must  offend  the 
saints  in  heaven." 

"O,  Dona  Carmelita,  let  me  once  again  see  thy  eyes 
sparkle  in  the  moonlight ;  add  a  flash  or  two  from  thy 
teeth  of  pearl " 

"Hush,  Don  Alfredo,  or  I  leave.  Perhaps  at  other 
embrasures  not  far  away  wait  caballeros,  not  so  vain 
as  to  fancy  themselves  directors  of  the  music  celestial. 
Good  night,  Don  Alfredo.  Clip  the  wings  of  thy  imag 
ination  lest  thou  fly  too  near  the  sun." 

"O,  Dona  mia,  do  not  go  away.  If  it  please  thee  I'll 
praise  the  heavenly  angels. 

The  window  was  suddenly  closed. 

"Caramba !  again.  It's  difficult  for  a  soldier  to  trim 
his  tongue  that  he  may  speak  words  of  love  to  the  tender 
ears  of  the  capricious  sefiorita." 

"Good  evening,  Captain  Morando." 

The  soldier  turned  abruptly.  At  his  side  stood 
Sefior  Mendoza,  administrator  of  the  Mission  of  San 
Jose,  gravely  looking  at  him. 

"Good  evening,  your  Excellency.  I  hope  your  health 
is  all  of  the  best,"  somewhat  discomposedly. 

"Many  thanks,  Captain.  Your  hope  is  generously 
fulfilled  in  me,  for  my  health  is  indeed  good." 

The  Administrator's  expression  became  quizzical. 
"May  I  ask  you,  brave  soldier,  why  you  stand  on  guard 
here  in  the  moonlight,  bearing  that  singular-appearing 


A  SERENADE  IN  THE  MOONLIGHT         9 

firearm?"  pointing  to  the  guitar.  "Can  it  be  that 
renegade  Indians  threaten  ?" 

"When  a  soldier  stands  at  guard,  Senor  Admin 
istrator,  may  there  not  be  motives  many,  other  than 
renegade  Indians?" 

The  other  laughed  and  changed  the  subject.  "Did 
I  but  dream  the  comandante  of  the  pueblo  of  San  Jose 
was  to  be  here  to-night,  he  would  have  been  invited  to 
sit  with  our  council  meeting  but  now  concluded.  Spring 
advances,  and  the  rains  fall  not.  Never  has  Alta  Cali 
fornia  seen  such  drought.  Our  live  stock  sadly  need 
grazing  and  water.  Hence  I  called  the  council.  I 
would  that  you  had  been  present.  The  military  mind 
is  fertile  in  expedient." 

"I  fear  it  would  be  sadly  deficient  in  surmounting  the 
need  of  a  south  wind." 

"Our  Captain  has  wit,  as  well  as  vigilance.  But  I 
am  forgetting  hospitality,  soldier  protector  of  the 
Mission.  Come  within.  Let  others  woo,  if  they  will, 
the  goddess  of  dreams,  but  for  you  and  me  the  pleasures 
of  fellowship  will  hasten  lagging  hours." 

"I  thank  you,  Senor  Mendoza,  but  I  fear " 

"Fear  never  a  moment,  friend  Morando.  Sentinels 
watch  over  us  in  valley  and  on  hill,  men  trusty,  tried, 
and  true.  Eyes  have  they  as  keen  as  eagles ;  the  ears 
and  the  swiftness  of  the  fox  are  theirs.  Therefore  no 
vigil  need  thou  keep  for  us." 

Morando  still  hesitated. 

"Come  now.  Right  glad  am  I  that  you  are  here. 
Within,  a  glass  of  wine,  a  chat,  perhaps  a  harmless,  game 
at  cards,  await  us.  Soon  roll  the  hours  away.  Then 


10  THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

you  gallop  across  the  pastures,  alas !  dry  and  bare  now, 
to  the  pueblo  of  San  Jose.  I  seek  my  couch  soothed 
by  your  young  companionship.  Now,  what  wilt  thou?" 

An  inarticulate  sound  behind  the  embrasure.  Don 
Alfredo  could  have  sworn  it  concealed  a  silvery  laugh 
from  the  fair  Dona  Carmelita. 

"The  night  birds  are  calling,  Don  Alfredo.  Did 
you  not  just  hear  them?"  looking  slyly  at  the  captain. 
"They  are  sleepy  and  we  arouse  them." 

Holding  his  arm  and  talking  the  while  about  the 
drought  and  other  difficulties  the  Administrator  led 
Don  Alfredo  within. 

"Brave  Captain,  place  that  death-dealing  weapon  on 
the  chair,"  pointing  a  second  time  to  the  guitar.  "Some 
new  invention,  of  course,  though  I  seem  to  see  some 
thing  familiar  about  it.  Seat  yourself  on  that  settee. 
It  came  to  me  from  Madrid." 

"Thank  you,  senor." 

With  a  smile  as  gracious  as  the  moonlight  the  senor 
said:  "At  another  time  I  would  ask  my  daughter,  the 
Dona  Carmelita,  to  join  us  for  a  little  visit,  but  the 
child  is  young  and  the  night  already  late.  She  would 
doubtless  wish  to  sleep." 

They  were  in  the  Administrator's  private  sitting 
room,  the  duplicate  of  a  room  in  his  father's  castle  in 
Spain.  Priceless  Persian  rugs  were  on  the  floor,  with 
high-back  chairs  of  solid  mahogany  everywhere  about. 
A  massive  secretary,  likewise  of  mahogany,  stood  at  one 
side.  Tapestries  designed  in  Seville  hung  on  one  of  the 
walls ;  weapons  of  the  hunt  and  of  war,  another ;  while 

011  paintings  of  battles,  in  many  of  which  the  family 


A  SERENADE  IN  THE  MOONLIGHT       11 

Mendoza  had  been  distinguished,  completed  the  adorn 
ment. 

"Caramba!  I  ride  miles  to  serenade  the  daughter; 
and  here  I  am  in  the  hacienda  house,  the  guest  of  the 
father,  while  the  senorita  is  somewhere  in  the  courtyard, 
laughing,  I'm  sure — yes,  laughing,"  thought  the  young 
soldier. 

"Some  wine,  my  Captain?  Genuine  Malaga  it  is, 
guaranteed  by  government  stamp,  not  the  juice  of  the 
old  Mission  grape,  excellent  as  that  is.  Now,  the 
cigarros.  Let  us  speak,  Senor  Captain,  of  the  General 
Guerrero.  I  understand  he  was  once  commander  of  that 
division  in  Spain  from  which  you  have  so  lately  come. 
Am  I  correct?" 

"You  are,  senor.  The  General  was  my  commander  so 
recently  that  one  year  will  more  than  bridge  the  time." 

"Guerrero  was  my  captain  when,  as  a  subaltern,  I 
sailed  these  western  seas,  and  saw  service  in  the  Philip 
pines — service  that  was  service.  Tell  me  of  my  one 
time  leader.  Is  he  well?" 

"He  is  well,  and  the  years  have  small  meaning  to  his 
strength." 

Captain  Morando  talked  with  his  host  of  the  cam 
paigns  of  General  Guerrero  in  the  Spanish  trans-Medi 
terranean  dependencies ;  of  the  newly  concluded  peace 
there;  and  of  the  retirement  of  the  General  by  the  age 
limit,  but  all  the  while  his  mind  was  fashioning  love 
songs  outside  the  window  of  the  fair  senorita.  Through 
the  haze  of  tobacco  smoke  the  strong,  kindly  face  of 
the  Administrator  of  Mission  San  Jose  de  Guadalupe 
softened  into  the  sweet  face  of  the  dona,  with  her  laugh- 


12      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

ing  eyes  and  beautiful  hair ;  his  deep  voice  gave  way  to 
the  lighter  tones  of  the  daughter. 

"Peace  in  North  Africa  brought  relief  to  the  young 
soldier  from  discomforts  of  the  campaign.  Was  it  not 
so?" 

"Senor  Mendoza,  it  brought  the  weariness  of  camp 
and  garrison.  The  morning  drill,  the  after-luncheon 
parade,  the  society  function  in  the  evening,  ill  filled  my 
idea  of  the  life  a  man  should  live.  Besides,  the  ambi 
tious  soldier  sees  advancement  only  in  a  life  of  action. 
I  sought  a  change  and  I  found  one.  My  resignation 
was  easily  effected.  I  then  carried  my  letters  to  the 
Mexican  war  secretary,  whom  I  made  acquainted  with 
my  preference.  Accordingly,  came  my  assignment  to 
San  Jose  pueblo." 

"Good !  Good,  my  Captain !  During  my  visit  in 
Mexico  just  concluded  I  learned  that  you  had  been 
appointed  comandante.  Some  wine  in  your  glass?" 

"No  more,  thank  you." 

"What,  not  any?  The  young  man  is  abstemious. 
That  is  well.  Strong  and  lusty  age  follows  youth  lived 
along  the  way  of  moderation." 

The  men  puffed  their  cigars.  Higher  and  higher,  in 
widening  circles,  rose  the  incense  of  the  fragrant  leaf. 
The  Administrator  was  busy  with  his  thoughts;  like 
wise  the  guest.  "His  daughter,  he  intimates,  is  too 
young  for  late  hours.  Many  a  night,  at  low  twelve, 
during  his  sojourn  in  Mexico,  have  I  sung  to  her  from 
my  corner  in  the  courtyard.  What  would  he  say  if  he 
knew  that  to-night  is  not  my  first  visit  thither — nor 
yet  my  second — nor  my  third — nor  yet " 


A  SERENADE  IN  THE  MOONLIGHT       13 

The  older  man  broke  the  silence.  "Soldier,  our 
California  needs  men." 

Morando  started  slightly,  then  signified  by  a  move 
ment  of  the  head  that  he  had  heard.  Mendoza  exhaled 
several  whiffs  of  his  Havana  before  speaking  further, 
meanwhile  surveying  the  alert  form  and  soldierly  fea 
tures  of  the  Captain. 

"Life  is  not  all  play,  as  many  appear  to  think  it  is. 
Our  province  has  passed  the  years  of  childhood.  With 
maturity  comes  duty  as  waking  with  day." 

The  soldier  listened  with  interest. 

"I  believe  the  cleavage  of  California  and  Mexico  is 
near  at  hand.  They  fall  apart  by  their  own  weight. 
Even  the  Mexican  secretary  of  state  spoke  openly  of 
this  to  me  a  month  ago." 

"Then  what  comes,  Sefior  Mendoza?" 

"There  comes  that  which  we  ourselves  make.  On  an 
ethical  foundation  of  the  highest  order  must  we  build 
our  body  politic.  Then,  when  our  province  becomes  free, 
some  protecting  nation  will  extend  to  us  a  sister's  hand. 
If  in  this  fruitful  land  there  should  prevail  the  spirit 
of  sweet-do-nothingness,  how  can  we  hope  that  others 
will  consider  us  highly  while  we  deem  ourselves  lightly  ?" 

"My  time  here  has  been  too  short  to  have  studied 
these  matters  carefully.  However,  I  have  heard  men 
speak  of  a  California  republic." 

"The  vision  of  dreamers,  my  Captain.  We  have 
neither  army  nor  navy,  nor  can  we  hope  to  have  them. 
How  could  we  unaided  hold  this  province  situated  as 
it  is,  the  commercial  center  of  these  seas  and  the  bosom 
of  resources  as  yet  scarcely  touched?" 


14      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Then,  in  your  judgment,  it  should  not  be  a  question 
of  absolute  independence?" 

"In  one  sense,  no.  Yet,  I  favor  a  rule  by  the  people. 
People  of  enlightenment  will  govern  wisely.  Captain 
Morando,  we  need  men,  more  men,  who  will  place  the 
common  good  above  their  private  interest." 

"You  speak  the  duty  of  the  soldier,  Senor  Mendoza/' 

"It  is  so,  Captain."  Then  turning  the  conversation 
back  to  the  situation  in  the  Santa  Clara  valley :  "Have 
you  run  across  Stanislaus  yet?  No?  Nor  Yoscolo? 
Well,  I  hope  you  will  soon  see  both  over  your  pistol 
barrel.  They  are  a  menace  to  the  peace  in  our  valley. 
Yoscolo  is  the  abler  of  the  two.  Many  a  lively  skirmish 
have  my  fighting  peons  had  with  the  scoundrel." 

During  this  time  the  Dona  Carmelita  mounted  a  stair 
case  and  walked  along  a  passage  which  had  its  way  over 
a  high,  wide  adobe  wall  leading  from  one  part  of  the 
house  to  another.  The  moonlight  fell  in  weird  fantasy 
on  the  hacienda  grounds.  Palms,  evergreens,  flowers 
assumed  moving  shapes,  as  if  engaged  in  low  but  ani 
mated  conversation. 

Breezes  from  San  Francisco  Bay  flowed  intermit 
tently  into  the  courtyard,  shaking  the  branches  and 
rattling  the  leaves.  One  stronger  gust  caught  spray 
from  a  fountain  and  sent  it  eddying  into  the  white 
night.  The  awakened  birds  murmured  sleepily  and 
myriad  crickets  chirped  remonstrance.  Three  Spanish 
mastiffs,  guardians  of  the  inclosure,  edged  away  from 
the  impromptu  shower,  then  looked  up  furtively  at  the 
girl,  ashamed  of  temporary  cowardice. 

Anon  there  floated  down  to  her  from  the  heights  be- 


A  SERENADE  IN  THE  MOONLIGHT       15 

yond  the  call  of  the  Indian  sentinel  as  he  made  his  rounds, 
"Love  to  God !"  followed  by  the  reply  from  one  of  his 
fellows,  "Love  to  God !"  With  a  dozen  tongues  the 
hills  took  up  the  refrain,  "Love  to  God !  Love  to  God !" 

"What  can  my  father  and  Captain  Morando  find  to 
talk  about  so  long!  Men  can  gossip  as  well  as  women 
when  they  are  so  minded." 

She  mounted  another  flight  of  outside  stairs  that 
led  to  the  top  of  the  buildings  which  formed  three  sides 
of  the  courtyard.  The  courtyard  door  was  open.  Sev 
eral  peons  were  holding  the  struggling  watchdog  while 
another  brought  Morando's  horse. 

"Hold  fast  those  dogs !"  Senor  Mendoza  said  to  the 
Indians.  "They  are  as  fierce  as  tigers.  Good-night, 
Captain  Morando.  Remember  two  weeks  from  Thurs 
day  evening,  at  six.  My  daughter's  duena  will  be  home 
from  Monterey,  and  we'll  have  both  to  dine  with  us, 
with  perhaps  a  few  friends,  just  a  valecito  casero — a 
little  house  party.  Good-night.  Glad  you've  some 
men  in  the  village.  The  country  won't  be  safe  till  we 
rid  it  of  those  miscreant  renegades.  Good-night,  Cap 
tain." 

The  heavy  door  closed.  The  dona  saw  that  Captain 
Morando  rode  around  the  courtyard  to  the  embrasure 
window,  halted  and  looked  up  anxiously.  Walking  to 
the  edge  of  the  roof  she  stood  there,  a  beautiful  picture. 
He  waved  his  hand. 

"O,  dona  mia — "  he  began.  Unfastening  a  rose  from 
her  hair  she  tossed  it  to  him.  The  pulsing  air  caught 
it,  and  swaying,  whirling,  it  fell.  He  reined  in  his  horse, 
urged  it  forward,  swung  it  around,  keeping  in  the  un- 


16      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

certain  downward  path  of  the  rose,  till  finally  its  stem 
rested  in  his  hand. 

He  kissed  the  flower  again  and  again ;  then  holding  it 
up  to  her,  waved  it  in  rhythmic  motion  as  he  had  done 
before  with  the  guitar. 

"O,  dona  mia — "  he  began  once  more,  but  the  watch 
dogs  bayed  savagely  and  rushed  against  the  adobe 
fence.  His  horse  shied  and  sprang  away.  He  wheeled 
back  again. 

The  senorita  had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  LION  AND  THE  LAMB  LIE  DOWN 
TOGETHER 

MOST  unwonted  drought  had  laid  a  withering  hand 
on  fertile  Santa  Clara  valley  that  year.  March 
had  come  and  no  vast  stretches  of  wild  oats  measured 
the  way  from  foothill  to  ba}7;  no  juicy  grazing  for  cat 
tle  and  horses  on  the  rich  bottom  lands.  The  plain- 
brown  color-tone  of  autumn  prevailed,  not  that  of 
spring,  in  triumphant  green  and  promise  of  rich  har 
vest. 

This  interchange  prevailed  almost  everywhere  except 
around  the  gushing  springs  at  the  Mission  San  Jose. 
Here  rioted  nature  in  her  proudest  fancy,  for  the  in 
tense  warmth  of  day  and  night  had  brought  to  blossom 
before  their  time  wild  plant,  oleander,  and  fruit  tree. 
Here  was  green  grass  in  luxuriant  abundance,  while 
the  tall  mustard  flaunted  its  yellow  top  as  usual,  and 
afforded  a  resting  place  for  chattering  blackbird  and 
twittering  linnet. 

The  springs  on  the  Administrator's  property  several 
miles  north  of  Mission  San  Jose  had  gradually  dimin 
ished  in  flow  until  only  unsightly,  trampled  mud  re 
mained  where  was  a  limpid  lake  in  happier  years. 

The  geyserlike  warm  springs  on  the  property  of  Don 
Fulgencio  Higuera,  Senor  Mendoza's  neighbor  to  the 

17 


18      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

south,  had  suddenly  run  dry.  In  fact,  not  more  than 
half  a  dozen  sources  of  water-supply  remained  within 
a  radius  of  a  score  of  miles.  The  like  had  never  been 
known,  not  even  in  the  memory  of  the  oldest  Indian  in 
the  valley. 

Weird  relics  of  Druidic  worship,  half  forgotten  under 
the  tutelage  of  the  Mission  padres,  were  revived  in  for 
est  and  mountain.  Vast  columns  of  smoke,  odoriferous 
of  cedar  and  bay-leaf,  reached  high  toward  heaven  in 
the  motionless  air.  The  ancient  name  of  Oroysom  re 
placed  on  many  a  tongue  that  of  the  smoothly  flowing 
Mission  San  Jose  de  Guadalupe,  which  name  the  mis 
sionaries  had  given  the  region  when  their  work  of  Chris 
tianizing  the  Indians  began. 

"Oroysom,  Oroysom,  begs  thee,  Great  Spirit,  to 
awake,"  sang  the  aborigine.  "Let  the  perfume  of  laurel 
propitiate  thee.  Let  the  sweetness  of  the  smoke  of 
cedar  be  a  gracious  offering  unto  thee.  On  the  fields 
of  Oroysom  no  food  for  beast  is  found.  Gaunt  famine 
is  rushing  hither  in  wind-swift  pace.  Our  hunters 
search  stream  and  wildwood,  but  find  no  food  for  the 
child,  the  women,  the  old  people.  There  is  no  maize, 
no  field  of  growing  wheat ;  and,  lo !  the  garden  is  dry 
and  empty.  Oroysom  calls  on  thee,  Father  of  the  rain, 
Source  of  the  springs,  and  Giver  of  the  harvest,  to 
arouse  from  slumber  and  forget  no  longer  the  people 
who  from  old  have  honored  thee." 

Around  the  great  fires  at  night  the  Indians  swung 
hand  in  hand,  swaying  in  willowy  motion  as  they 
chanted  their  incantation.  Their  shadows  danced  in 
wildest  abandon  on  the  mammoth  rocks  or  mountain 


THE  LION  AND  THE  LAMB  19 

peaks  which  formed  the  background  of  the  strange 
scene. 

Senor  Mendoza,  the  leading  spirit  among  the  land 
holders  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  valley,  endeavored,  as, 
indeed,  did  his  neighbors,  to  maintain  equanimity,  but 
there  was  much  anxiety  among  all. 

Even  water  for  family  use  had  to  be  carried  on 
horseback,  the  vaqueros  from  ranches  miles  away  com 
ing  to  the  few  remaining  water-supplies,  and  riding  back 
with  the  precious  water  skins  over  the  pommel  of  the 
saddle. 

It  was  the  last  week  of  January  when  the  Adminis 
trator  first  called  his  fellow  landowners  together  to  con 
sider  what  could  be  done.  They  gathered  in  his  sitting 
room.  Graybeards  they  were,  the  most  of  them,  and 
rich  in  the  wisdom  of  many  years,  as  well  as  in  landed 
possessions. 

Long  they  smoked  the  cigarros  of  the  provident  Ad 
ministrator  and  sipped  his  rare  wines,  the  while  ex 
changing  polite  remarks  on  the  nothings  of  the  day. 
This  was  their  way  while  waiting  to  begin  attack  on 
some  weighty  subject.  Finally  Senor  Mendoza  ordered 
the  serving  peons  to  bring  on  his  choicest  cognac,  a 
select  French  product. 

"The  Administrator  is  vastly  disturbed  over  this 
rainless  winter,"  whispered  Don  Pedro  Zelaya,  of  the 
rancho  San  Lorenzo,  to  Don  Fulgencio  Higuera,  of  the 
rancho  Aguas  Calientes.  "Paris  knows  no  better  co 
gnac  than  I  see  here.  I  divine  his  anxiety  by  the  quality 
of  his  liquors.  Last  year  when  renegade  Indians  threat 
ened  he  furnished  our  meeting  here  with  a  Portuguese 


20      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

cordial  mild  as  milk.  Much  as  he  fears  the  prowling 
Yoscolo  and  Stanislaus,  he  measures  them  not  high  in 
comparison  with  this  drought." 

The  leonine-appearing  Senor  Higuera  squared  his 
yard-wide  shoulders  to  attention  as  he  sat  in  his  high- 
backed  chair.  His  eye  ran  slowly  over  the  slender  and 
dapper  Senor  Zelaya.  A  trace  of  humor  stole  into  his 
eyes,  then  over  his  bearded  face.  "Brandy  in  the  head 
seldom  lends  swiftness  to  the  feet.  Is  it  not  so?" 

Pedro  Zelaya  was  the  swiftest  foot-racer  in  the 
province  of  California.  He  was  also  a  lover  of  good 
eating  and  drinking.  When  training  for  his  famous 
races  he  must  forego  the  delicacies  of  his  French  cook, 
and  the  bouquet  of  imported  wine,  which  deprivations 
he  relished  not  over  well. 

"A  thimbleful  of  brandy  is  given  even  to  a  bull-fighter 
before  the  contest,"  replied  Senor  Zelaya,  bowing  po 
litely  and  suavely  smiling. 

Years  before  the  doughty  Senor  Higuera  had  seized 
and  held  by  the  horns  an  infuriated  bull  which,  mad 
dened  by  eating  the  dreaded  rattleweed,  a  venomous 
plant  then  common,  had  left  the  herd  and  rushed  up  on 
Higuera,  who  was  standing,  with  his  wife  and  children, 
in  the  open  before  the  courtyard  of  his  hacienda  house. 

The  peons  served  the  cognac  in  long,  slender-stemmed 
goblets.  Senor  Mendoza  raised  his  glass,  looked  for  a 
moment  at  the  amber  liquid,  then  sipped  it  gently. 
Lowering  the  glass  he  glanced  around  at  the  assembled 
company.  Each  man,  following  the  example  of  the 
host,  tasted  the  contents  of  his  own  glass,  and  then  al 
lowed  his  eyes  to  rest  on  the  Senor  Administrator. 


THE  LION  AND  THE  LAMB  21 

This  process  was  repeated  once,  twice,  three  times, 
until  each  had  finished  his  beverage. 

Sefior  Mendoza's  aquiline  features,  garnished  by 
mustache  and  imperial,  and  embellished  by  a  waving 
iron-gray  hair,  fell  into  severer  mold. 

"Senors,  my  friends,  may  I  have  your  attention?" 

No  one  spoke. 

"Senors,"  his  tones  serious  and  resonant,  "it  is  not 
raining  to-day." 

His  assertion  was  not  disputed.  The  rays  of  the  sun 
streamed  into  the  room.  It  was  afternoon  and  the 
delicately  tinted  stained  glass  of  the  windows  was  re 
splendent  in  the  light. 

"It  rained  not  yesterday,  nor  in  the  yesterday  of 
many  months,"  looking  from  one  to  another  of  his  com 
pany,  as  if  in  search  of  opposition. 

The  senors,  in  solemn  concord,  bowed  in  corrobora- 
tion  of  his  statement. 

"The  soft  south  wind  blows  not.  Overhead  is  the 
summer  sun.  I  see  no  hope  of  rain  to-morrow." 

The  grave  senors  acquiesced. 

"Indians  in  thousands,  beasts  in  tens  of  thousands, 
are  on  our  lands.  Responsibilities,  neither  few  nor 
doubtful,  weigh  on  our  shoulders.  If  it  rains  not  to 
morrow,  nor  yet  till  the  to-morrows  touch  late  spring, 
how  can  we  fulfill  the  duty  this  province  of  Alta  Cali 
fornia  lays  at  our  door,  that  our  aborigine  wards  lack 
not  the  sustenance  their  condition  demands  ?" 

His  look  went  from  face  to  face.  Suddenly  he  stood 
upright. 

"Senors,  to  save  our  people  we  must  save  our  cattle. 


$2      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Even  if  the  rain  comes,  the  feed  will  be  late.  Therefore 
our  herds  must  go  elsewhere  soon,  or  only  their  dried 
bones  will  see  another  year.  Whither  shall  we  take 
them?" 

The  foremost  in  the  council  gave  their  views. 

"The  river  to  the  north,  called  Russian,  nourishes 
vast  canons  of  redwood  forest.  The  soil  is  ever  moist 
where  the  heaven-searching  redwood  grows.  Let  rafts 
be  made  to  ferry  the  animals  to  the  shore  of  Contra 
Costa.  In  another  year  they  will  return,  with  increase, 
fat  and  safe.  Our  peons  throughout  the  year  can  call 
hither  from  that  region  the  supplies  we  need."  Thus 
Don  Antonio  Peralta. 

As  he  concluded  the  other  leaders  bowed  to  him 
solemnly. 

The  dapper  Zelaya  indicated  to  his  host,  who  was  yet 
standing,  his  wish  to  speak. 

The  quiet  humor  in  the  heart  of  Senor  Higuera  stole 
again  into  his  eyes  and  over  his  face  and  reached 
his  tongue.  "Swiftness  in  the  feet  means  quickness  in 
the  mind  directing  those  feet.  Let  us  hear  Senor 
Zelaya." 

The  lord  of  the  rancho  San  Lorenzo  looked  musingly 
at  his  friend.  "I  doubt  greatly  that  even  Senor  Higuera 
could  hold  a  grizzly  bear  by  the  horns,  since  that  crea 
ture  possesses  none.  At  any  rate,  the  grizzly  has 
strength  yet  greater  than  our  mighty  Higuera  here. 
The  deep  shadows  of  the  Russian  river  canons  shelter 
these  enemies  in  numbers.  Our  vaqueros  could  little 
protect  their  charges  in  those  glades  and  thickets. 
Senors,"  impressively,  "if  our  live  stock  are  to  leave 


THE  LION  AND  THE  LAMB      23 

their  bones  bleaching  anywhere  this  season,  why  send 
them  abroad  to  seek  this  privilege?" 

"Brava!"  said  the  giant  Higuera,  smiling  approval. 

Some  one  then  spoke  of  the  pasturage  away  to  the 
south,  in  the  valley  of  the  Salinas,  or  even  the  rolling 
lands  of  Santa  Barbara.  But  the  feed  could  but  poorly 
support  the  herds  already  there,  so  one  said  who  re 
cently  had  traveled  about. 

Mendoza  resumed  his  seat,  since  no  one  spoke  further. 
For  a  moment  he  silently  regarded  his  neighbors.  At 
last:  "Friends  and  brothers  mine,  Senor  Peralta  has 
spoken  of  the  north  country  as  a  possible  solution  for 
our  imminent  difficulties.  Senor  Zelaya  is  right.  The 
Russian  bear,  as  well  as  the  California  grizzly,  would 
divide  our  property  by  piecemeal  there.  There  are 
yet  the  river  beds  of  the  Sacramento  and  the  San 
Joaquin." 

"But  Yoscolo  and  Stanislaus  and  their  thousand 
renegades!"  objected  one.  "We  go  to  the  mouth  of 
the  tiger.  More  than  ever  are  these  men  active  now." 

"Our  fighting  peons  equal  in  strength  their  recreant 
fellows.  Nothing  remains  but  for  us  to  cross  the  passes 
to  the  soft  bottom  lands  in  the  eastern  valleys.  Senors, 
shall  we  go?" 

The  Administrator's  judgment  was  accepted,  and 
the  visitors,  standing,  drank  another  glass  of  brandy 
and  departed. 

Early  the  next  day  began  a  great  exodus  of  cattle 
and  horses  through  mountain  defile,  north  and  south, 
to  the  flat  lowlands  across  the  mountain  ranges,  Indian 
vaqueros,  peons  armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  and  here 


24      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

and  there  a  Spaniard  with  a  flint-lock  musket  going  with 
the  herds. 

Despite  the  general  departure  of  live  stock  the  late 
spring  saw  wondrous  commotion  about  the  watering 
troughs  of  Senor  Mendoza.  Cattle  from  the  hills,  from 
the  marshes  of  the  bay,  from  no  one  knew  where,  scented 
water  and  rushed  in  thirst-madness  to  the  Mission  of 
San  Jose;  bellowing,  leaping,  rolling  over  and  over  in 
their  frenzy  to  reach  the  water ! 

All  day  long  did  the  vaqueros  rush  into  the  surging 
tumult,  springing  with  the  swiftness  of  the  cat  from 
back  to  back  of  cattle  or  horse  in  the  plunging  mass, 
separating  the  press  here  to  save  the  weaker  animals 
from  suffocation,  opening  lanes  there  to  allow  ingress 
to  the  troughs.  Bellowing  of  cattle  mingled  with  neigh 
ing  of  horses  in  wildest  confusion.  Famine  showed 
feverlike  in  their  eyes  and  echoed  madly  in  their  cries. 
During  the  day  the  battle  raged,  but  at  night  they 
drew  away  to  the  hills  looking  for  the  lower  tree-foliage 
and  the  scanty  leaf -for  age. 

Then  came  other  animals  to  the  water.  Thirst  drew 
them  from  the  mountains  and  drove  away  their  fear  of 
man.  The  gaunt  bear  lapped  from  the  trough,  and 
though  the  bow  of  the  hunter  was  bent  and  the  arrow 
aimed  to  slay,  pity  withheld  the  arrow. 

The  timid  deer  stood  unafraid  at  the  side  of  its 
ancient  enemies,  man  and  bear.  The  scream  of  the 
mountain  lion  mingled  with  the  howl  of  the  wolf,  as  they 
ran  about  among  men,  looking  for  food  after  they  had 
quenched  their  thirst  at  the  watering  place. 

Some  strange  chivalry,  deep  residing  in  the  beasts  of 


THE  LION  AND  THE  LAMB      25 

prey,  held  the  weaker  denizens  of  the  wildwood  in  safety 
from  claw  and  fang.  In  their  dire  adversity  came  a 
literal  fulfillment  of  the  old  prophecy  that  the  lion  and 
the  lamb  should  lie  down  together. 

Senor  Mendoza  and  his  friends  faced  bravely  the  dif 
ficult  situation. 

"Our  Indian  brother  shows  now  his  likeness  of  spirit 
to  the  four-footed  dwellers  of  the  wood.  Famine  mad 
ness  possesses  both.  Together  do  they  roam  by  day 
and  weirdly  cry  by  night,"  said  Mendoza  in  the  council 
of  his  neighbors. 

"The  Indians  lack  not  food  or  water,"  said  some  one. 
"What  need  of  such  strange  actions?" 

"The  savage  is  close  to  the  surface  in  every  nature," 
replied  Mendoza.  "Among  our  Indian  friends  the  out 
cropping  is  more  easily  apparent." 

Several  began  speaking  at  the  same  time,  an  unusual 
thing  in  that  placid  assembly.  Like  a  murmur  it  began, 
but  rose  to  distinct  word  and  ordered  expression.  "Our 
wives,  our  children,  our  lives,  are  in  danger  from  these 
mad  wards  the  province  has  given  us." 

"Our  soldiers  are  at  the  pueblo,"  said  one. 

"They  number  less  than  fifty.  The  Indians  have 
strength  and  to  spare  to  drive  our  few  troopers  into  the 
San  Francisco  bay,"  said  Zelaya. 

"Why  were  so  many  aborigines  trained  in  the  use  of 
the  musket  and  lance?"  from  some  one  else. 

"They  have  fought  our  battles  against  their  un 
tamed  brethren  for  a  generation,"  replied  Mendoza. 

As  usual  this  meeting  was  in  Mendoza's  house.  Di 
rectly  across  the  road  was  the  Mission  church. 


26      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

As  if  to  give  emphasis  to  the  fears  but  just  expressed 
from  everywhere  there  came  the  peculiar  semitone  that 
only  moccasined  feet  can  make.  A  thousand  footfalls 
centered  their  way  to  the  old  adobe  church.  The  In 
dians  poured  through  the  open  doors  into  the  audi 
torium  until  it  overflowed.  Like  restless  ants  those  who 
could  not  get  within  ran  around  the  building,  filling 
every  approach,  surging  in  resistless  multitude,  as  did 
the  thirst-driven  cattle  around  the  water  source. 

"They  have  gone  entirely  mad!  First  they  will  de 
stroy  the  church,  then  fall  on  our  families  and  on  us," 
came  somewhere  from  the  elders.  "Let  us  fly  to  our 
hacienda  houses,  barricade  our  gates,  and  fight  to  the 
end." 

"Let  us  wait,"  suggested  Mendoza,  "and  see  fur 
ther." 

With  sudden  impulse  the  aborigines  began  to  move 
from  side  to  side  in  singular  unison.  At  first  they  ut 
tered  no  sound,  then  came  a  crooning  of  strange  med 
leys  in  lifeless,  indistinct  tones. 

"They  commence  thus  their  war  dance!" 

Senor  Mendoza  shrugged. 

A  tall  Indian  mounted  the  church  steps.  He  turned. 
His  face  was  wrinkled,  his  long  hair,  white,  yet 
straight  and  sturdy  he  stood  before  the  undulating 
throng. 

"'Tis  old  Juan  Antonio,  major-domo  of  the  Mission 
there.  When  did  he  come  from  the  region  of  the  San 
Joaquin?  He  and  the  padre  drove  thither  their  cattle 
even  before  we  sent  away  ours." 

The  man  waved  his  hand  over  the  people.    The  tumult 


THE  LION  AND  THE  LAMB      27 

was  lessened.  From  the  church  came  the  soft  chords  of 
the  organ.  A  powerful  voice  intoned. 

"My  soul  hath  magnified  the  Lord  and  my  spirit  hath 
rejoiced  in  God,  my  Saviour." 

The  organ  swelled  in  thunder  notes,  as  the  faithful 
within  the  church  took  up  the  antistrophe : 

"For  behold  he  hath  regarded  the  humility  of  his 
handmaid,  and  from  henceforth  all  generations  shall 
call  me  blessed." 

Thus  was  sung  the  Magnificat. 

A  man  came  out  to  the  church  door.  Youth  was  on 
face  and  figure,  but  care  and  illness  lined  his  features 
and  bowed  the  shoulders  that  showed  broad  even  under 
his  friar's  robe.  In  movements  as  graceful  as  a 
feather's  dip  he  pointed  to  the  Indians,  then  to  their 
homes  scattered  over  valley  and  hill.  In  another  ges 
ture  he  motioned  to  the  neophytes  to  be  on  their  way. 
They  looked  stolidly  at  one  another,  then  back  to  the 
padre  who  remained  standing  with  his  arm  outstretched. 
Savagery  flamed  anew  in  their  faces.  With  the  growl 
of  an  angry  beast  about  to  rend  its  prey  they  rushed 
up  the  steps.  The  friar,  motionless,  still  stood  before 
them,  still  pointing  to  their  houses.  The  mob  charged 
on.  They  were  but  a  pace  distant  when,  as  one  man, 
they  paused,  held  in  check  by  the  unswerving  calm  of  the 
churchman.  Back  from  him,  step  by  step,  they  went 
till  the  ground  was  reached.  Again  they  paused  and 
looked  up  at  the  friar,  indecision  written  on  their  faces. 
The  padre  did  not  move.  With  a  single  impulse  they 
turned  homeward  and  silently  filed  along  the  road,  in 
obedience  to  Padre  Osuna's  unspoken  command.  Soon 


28      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

the  friar  and  Juan  Antonio  were  alone.  They  walked 
down  to  a  courtyard  gate  not  unlike  Senor  Mendoza's, 
and  disappeared  within. 

Mendoza  and  his  friends  had  witnessed  the  drama  to 
its  close. 

A  rumbling  sounded  in  the  distance  which  soon  re 
solved  itself  into  the  measured  tramp  of  horses,  so 
many  that  their  coming  shook  the  ground.  The  riders, 
in  uniform,  with  lance  in  hand  and  carbine  slung  over 
shoulder,  pushed  their  mounts  foaming  at  mouth  and 
flank  to  the  courtyard  gate. 

"The  cavalry  from  San  Jose!"  cried  Mendoza. 
"What  brings  them  in  such  haste?" 

An  officer  sprang  from  his  horse. 

The  Administrator  opened  his  window.  "Captain 
Morando !" 

The  Captain  saluted. 

"Why  this  force,  Sefior  Captain?" 

"Message  was  hurried  to  me  that  your  Indians,  fren 
zied  by  pagan  rites,  were  about  to  make  an  attack.  I 
gathered  my  men,  together  with  such  volunteers  as  the 
pueblo  afforded,  and  hot-foot  came  to  the  rescue.  I 
see,  instead,  the  Indians  going  quietly  to  their  homes. 
What  does  it  mean?" 

"Come  within,  Sefior  Captain." 

In  a  moment  Morando  stood  with  the  others. 

The  senor  told  him  of  the  coming  of  the  padre  and 
his  dispersal  of  the  Indians. 

Senorita  Carmelita  entered  the  room,  bowing  to  her 
father,  then  to  the  others. 

"O,  papacito,  my  Indian  maids  who  ran  away  last 


THE  LION  AND  THE  LAMB      29 

week,  in  their  madness,  are  back  all  sane  and  cool.  They 
ask  your  forgiveness  and  a  new  lease  of  service." 

"You  alone  have  to  do  with  them,  my  child." 

The  Captain  was  standing  at  attention.  Red  lightly 
tinged  the  girl's  cheek  as  she  saw  him.  She  again  bowed, 
and  went  out,  with.  "I  thank  you,  papacito." 

The  Indian  maidens  were  heard  on  the  outside  loudly 
wailing  their  thanks  to  the  sefiorita,  as  was  the  way  of 
children  of  the  wild  when  penitent. 

"Senors,  we  need " 

"Rain,"  interrupted  the  quiet  Higuera. 

"Senors,"  continued  Zelaya,  taking  no  notice  of  the 
interruption,  "we  need  thank  the  reverend  padre  for  his 
work  this  day.  Besides,  he  is  ill,  and  even  an  enemy 
who  is  ill  is  entitled  to  our  consideration  and  sympathy. 
I  do  not  mean  he  is  our  enemy,"  he  quickly  added. 

"I  shall  do  myself  the  honor  of  calling  upon  him," 
came  from  Mendoza.  "As  Administrator  of  this  Mission 
and  its  lands  I  am  interested  in  everyone  in  the  Mission, 
including  its  spiritual  head.  Some  Jesuit  bark  I  chance 
to  have  will  not  come  amiss  in  this  fever  of  the  river 
bottoms.  I  fancy  but  little  remains  in  the  province." 

The  company  departed,  the  soldiery  to  the  San  Jose 
pueblo,  the  land  barons  to  their  hacienda  houses. 

The  hundreds  of  white  adobe  cots  which  swarmed 
around  each  grandee's  mansion,  as  well  as  around  the 
Mission  buildings,  sheltered  that  evening  the  retainer 
occupants  who  for  days  had  forgotten  service  to  their 
feudal  lords  and  the  ways  civilization  had  taught  them. 
Once  more  hill  and  valley  were  dotted  with  the  blaze  of 
camp  fires  before  the  Indian  doorposts. 


CHAPTER  III 
A  DIP  INTO  THE  PAST 

THE  family  Mendoza  had  deserved  well  of  the  Span 
ish  crown.  Stanch  supporters  of  the  kingdom  had 
they  ever  been.  Their  talents,  their  wealth,  their  lives 
they  held  only  as  in  trust  to  be  devoted,  whenever  came 
the  call,  to  the  higher,  the  nobler  good. 

Adventurous  too  were  the  citizens  of  that  name. 
With  Pizarro  they  overthrew  the  Incas  of  Peru.  With 
Hernando  Cortez  they  stormed  the  place  of  strength 
of  the  Montezumas.  Their  swords  flashed  north  and 
south  in  the  conquering  of  vast  empires.  Few  of  them 
returned  from  these  scenes  of  glory,  and  of  those  few 
the  greater  part  were  maimed  and  broken  men.  The 
native  arrow  or  the  fever  swamp  claimed  life  or  health 
of  the  valiant  conquisador,  not  excepting  the  famous 
Mendozas. 

Thus  sifted  in  the  sieve  of  centuries,  the  family  Men 
doza  fell  gradually  in  numbers  from  men  sufficient  to 
fill  half  a  regiment,  as  in  the  old  crusader  times,  to  but 
two  representatives,  of  whom  the  younger  was  Jesus 
Maria  y  Jose. 

By  law  of  entail  the  elder  brother  received  the  land 
and  fortunes  of  that  once  powerful  family.  A  lieu- 


A  DIP  INTO  THE  PAST  31 

tenantship  in  the  army  was  the  portion  of  the  young' 
Jesus  Maria  y  Jose,  a  slender  consolation,  it  might 
seem,  but  the  bold-spirited  youth  accepted  it  with 
gracious  willingness. 

His  eighteenth  year  found  him  embarking  on  a  trans 
port  bound  for  the  dangerous  service  of  the  Philippines, 
with  a  soldiery  gathered  from  the  Spanish  prisons.  To 
quell  and  govern  such  men  was  a  pleasing  experience 
to  the  Castilian  boy ;  not  that  the  task  was  an  easy 
one,  or  that  he  would  have  it  so. 

In  the  becalmed  waters  of  the  tropics  the  sterling 
metal  of  the  youthful  officer  first  showed  itself.  Here 
the  mutinous  intent  of  the  men,  long  smoldering  under 
restraint  of  discipline,  resolved  into  action. 

'Early  one  morning  the  alarm  bell  rang  loud  of 
danger.  The  officers  hurried  on  deck  to  find  nearly 
every  soldier  under  arms  and  calling  aloud  for  venge 
ance  on  the  oppressors,  as  they  called  their  superiors. 
The  leader  was  a  huge,  bull-necked  cutthroat  who  once 
had  been  a  bandit  in  the  Pyrenees. 

"Each  mincing  ladies'  man  among  you  shall  walk  the 
plank,  before  the  guns  of  my  brave  fellows  here,  and 
we'll  cheer  you  pretty,  scented  gentlemen  as  you  battle 
in  the  water  with  the  sharks,"  shouted  the  jeering 
leader. 

Shouts  of  applause  came  from  the  men,  mingled  with 
jibes  and  curses. 

Mendoza  asked  of  his  captain  that  he  be  allowed 
to  speak  with  the  chief  mutineer.  He  stated  briefly  his 
purpose.  Permission  was  given,  for  the  situation  was 
desperate. 


32      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  officers,  but  a  score,  faced  full  five  hundred  men, 
all  armed.  Even  the  artillery  of  the  regiment,  shotted 
to  the  mouth,  was  gaping  angrily  at  them  from  the 
ranks  of  the  ruffians  across  deck. 

The  lieutenant  walked  to  the  front  bearing  his  naked 
rapier  in  his  hand,  while  the  mutinous  soldiers,  half 
drunken  with  liquor  looted  from  the  stores  of  the  ship, 
howled  at  him. 

"Mamma's  pet  comes  straight  from  the  bath  to  drive 
about  as  cattle  men  that  are  men.  Back  to  your  crib, 
you  reptile  infant,  or  I'll  grind  you  under  my  heel," 
threatened  the  leader. 

In  incoherent  echo  his  followers  stormed:  "Throw 
him  to  the  sharks,  for  cubs  become  wolves — cut  him 
into  pieces — cast  him  into  the  ovens !" 

"Attention!"  called  the  young  man. 

Something,  perhaps  innate  animal  respect  for 
bravery,  called  for  obedience.  Silence  and  expectancy 
fell  over  them. 

"You  pretend  to  despise  all  your  officers.  I  am  the 
youngest  and  least  among  them,  yet  I  dare  the  best 
among  you  to  fight  me  here,  I  with  this  light  rapier 
against  your  heavy  cutlass." 

The  boastful  leader  pushed  forward.  Around  the 
villain's  head  swung  his  cutlass  flaming  and  glancing 
in  the  tropic  sun. 

"Aha !  Aha !  young  sprig !"  in  half-drunken  glee. 
"Hear  the  whistling  air  divide  before  my  cutlass's  edge. 
I'll  strip  you  from  your  skin,  inch  by  inch,  and  dry  it 
on  your  cabin  door.  Come  now,  point  to  point,  you 
young  patrician  fool !" 


A  DIP  INTO  THE  PAST  33 

He  struck  a  cleaving  blow  at  the  figure  before  him. 
The  lieutenant's  rapier  caught  the  descending  blade, 
wound  itself  in  serpentine  curves  around  it  and  drew 
away.  The  cutlass  hurtled  to  the  floor  a  half  dozen 
paces  distant.  Numbness  seized  the  mutineer's  arm 
from  wrist  to  shoulder.  He  examined  the  member  in 
search  of  a  wound,  but  found  none. 

The  pack  of  insubordinates,  impelled  by  their  wolf- 
nature,  would  follow  the  leader  if  he  conquered,  or  rend 
him  if  he  fell. 

Murmurs  like  the  first  swell  of  an  angry  sea  rose 
among  the  mob,  then  burst  into  yells  of  derision. 

"A  schoolboy  makes  our  mighty  leader  play  the 
fool!" 

"Yes,  he  swings  his  cutlass  as  a  housewife  the  broom." 

"Throw  him  overboard  and  elect  a  man,  not  some 
awkward  cow!" 

Young  Mendoza  stood  with  rapier  poised,  aimed  at 
his  opponent's  heart. 

"Curse  the  tricks  of  feinting  and  legerdemain  your 
namby-pamby  schools  teach  you  in  Madrid.  Drop  your 
steel  fork  there  and  I'll  tear  you  to  pieces  with  my 
hands." 

Instantly  the  rapier  was  side  by  side  with  the  cutlass. 

The  leader  darted  forward,  his  fists  striking  flaillike 
blows  at  the  lithe  form  of  the  lieutenant. 

Mendoza  stepped  lightly  to  one  side.  The  opponent 
stumbled  past  him. 

As  the  mutineer  turned,  the  open  palms  of  the  clever 
boxer  landed  right  and  left  with  resounding  smack  on 
his  nose  and  mouth.  Raging  and  cursing,  the  ruffian. 


34      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

again  sprang  at  the  officer.  Once,  twice,  thrice,  did  the 
youth's  palms  beat  tattoo  on  his  adversary's  bleeding 
features.  Dazed  by  the  blows  the  man  at  last  fell  to 
the  deck. 

Hoarse,  derisive  cries  from  the  band  of  mutineers 
again  greeted  the  prostrate  man. 

"He  went  forth  to  chastise  a  babe,  but,  behold !  it  is 
a  wondrous  infant,"  groaned  some  fellow.  "Rise  up, 
brave  one,  a  chance  this  time  may  help  thee  land  that 
useless  fist  of  thine." 

The  leader  writhed  alike  at  the  ignominy  of  defeat 
and  at  the  irony  of  his  followers.  Drawing  a  knife,  as 
he  gained  his  feet,  he  flew  at  Mendoza,  despite  warning 
cries  even  from  the  ranks  of  his  own  men. 

The  weapon  drove  straight  out  with  murderous  in 
tent.  A  hush  fell  over  both  officers  and  mutineers. 

It  seemed  an  age  before  the  blow  came. 

It  struck  on  empty  air,  for  the  youth,  as  before,  had 
deftly  stood  aside.  As  the  other  was  driven  past  by 
his  own  momentum  the  boy  seized  him  by  the  waist  and 
neckband,  raised  him  from  the  deck,  and  whirling  him 
over  his  head,  flung  him  headlong  from  the  taffrail  to 
the  sea  below. 

A  man-eating  shark  which  had  been  following  the 
ship  swam  toward  its  prospective  prey.  Its  back  fins 
swirled  through  the  water,  as  it  came  dashing  up.  The 
poor  wretch  shrieked  in  agony.  He  tried  to  climb  the 
slippery  wood  of  the  ship's  side.  Time  after  time  he 
struck  deep  into  the  planks  the  knife  which  he  still  held, 
in  vain  endeavor  to  raise  himself  out  of  the  water  by 
this  leverage. 


A  DIP  INTO  THE  PAST  35 

"Help !  help,  friends,  in  the  Virgin's  name !"  he  en 
treated. 

The  shark  had  nearly  reached  him  and  was  already 
turning-  on  its  side  in  preparation  for  its  stroke  of 
death. 

Helplessness  seemed  to  possess  all. 

A  figure  fell  from  the  taffrail  to  the  side  of  the  des 
perate  men.  It  was  none  other  than  Lieutenant  Men- 
doza.  Balancing  himself  lightly  in  the  water,  he 
wrenched  the  knife  from  his  enemy's  hand,  and,  as  the 
sh'ark  came  up,  he  buried  it  to  the  handle  in  the 
monster's  brain.  Its  jaws  snapped  sullenly  not  the 
inches  of  a  span  away  from  the  head  of  the  screaming- 
bully.  Floundering  helplessly  the  creature  rolled  away. 
Other  man-eating  sharks  came  to  the  scene.  Some  of 
them  seized  on  their  helpless  brother  and  tore  at  his 
flesh  while  he  still  lived.  Others  swam  straight  for  the 
human  beings  at  the  side  of  the  ship. 

By  this  time  the  spectators  had  recovered  power  of 
action.  A  boat  was  quickly  lowered.  Muskets  and 
pistols  in  numbers  were  fired  at-  the  onrushing  school 
of  sharks. 

Soon  the  rescued  antf  rescuer  were  safe  on  board. 
There  was  talk  among  the  officers  of  court-martials  and 
executions,  with  the  outcome,  that,  after  much  persua 
sion  on  the  part  of  the  young  lieutenant,  the  com 
mander  granted  his  request  that  the  leader  be  pardoned 
pending  his  good  behavior. 

The  troops  were  not  again  recalcitrant. 

From  the  swamps  and  the  heat  of  the  Philippines 
Captain  Mendoza — for  foe  (had  been  promoted — re- 


36      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

turned  to  Europe.  Events  which  shook  the  world  were 
stirring  there.  As  an  eagle  flies  to  the  rescue  of  its 
eyrie  so  hastened  the  descendant  of  the  valiant  Men- 
dozas  to  the  Spain  of  his  fathers,  to  do  battle  for  its 
safety. 

The  figure  of  Napoleon  loomed  ominously  against 
Europe's  peace.  His  ambitious  hand  was  reaching  for 
the  crown  of  Spain,  as,  indeed,  for  all  other  crowns. 

Into  the  awful  carnage  plunged  Mendoza.  A  hun 
dred  blows  he  struck  at  the  terrible  Corsican,  even 
though,  often  enough,  the  recoil  threw  him  and  his 
command  reeling  backward  in  defeat.  Nevertheless, 
did  he  right  nobly  add  honor  and  renown  to  the  spot 
less  banner  of  his  house. 

Only  when  Napoleon  was  exiled  to  Elba  did  he  leave 
the  field.  Then,  in  command  of  his  regiment,  as  col 
onel,  he  returned  to  Madrid. 

His  elder  brother,  rich  in  titles  and  wealth,  influen 
tial  at  the  Cortes,  united  his  personal  petition  with  the 
strong  voice  of  the  colonel's  service  in  the  field,  to  obtain 
for  the  younger  man  place  and  emolument. 

The  vast  region  of  Alta  California  was  then  coming 
into  great  and  favorable  notice.  Need  there  would 
surely  be,  in  the  Californias,  of  men  of  mettle  and  of 
wisdom  to  hold  that  province  and  its  riches  secure  to 
Spanish  rule. 

Accordingly,  large  parcels  of  land  in  the  valley  of 
Santa  Clara,  fairest  and  most  fertile  in  all  that  western 
Eden,  California,  were  conferred  by  letters-patent  on 
the  soldier,  Mendoza. 

He  loved  a  lady  fair — Romalda.     What  man  of  his 


A  DIP  INTO  THE  PAST  37 

family  had  not?  Every  knight  of  La  Mancha  had  his 
Dulcinea,  and  Jesus  Maria  y  Jose  was  true  to  his  de 
scent,  even  to  the  very  finger-tips.  The  old  crusader 
Mendozas,  whose  faces  were  carved  in  marble  or  painted 
on  canvas  in  the  ancestral  home  in  Castile,  had  not  been 
more  chivalrous  and  romantic  than  was  this  now  famous 
colonel. 

Beautiful  daydreams  he  wove  and  told  to  the  listening 
ears  of  the  noble  lady.  He  had  seen  California,  and 
knew  well  that  part  of  it  where  his  estate  lay.  The 
fire  of  poetry  touched  his  words,  as  he  sketched  for  her 
the  estate  mightier  in  length  and  breadth  than  any  in 
Castile,  fairer  than  Elysian  fields,  more  fertile  than  the 
Andalusian  meadows. 

No  landscape  painter  could  limn  mountains  more 
picturesque  and  stately  than  did  the  words  of  Don 
Jesus  Maria  y  Jose  describe  the  eastern  boundary  of 
their  domain  in  the  land  of  far-away  California.  No 
minstrel  could  tell,  in  song  or  verse,  of  lake  or  bay  so 
fair,  so  blue,  as  the  inland  sea  which  laved  the  western 
limit  of  their  home-to-be. 

Lady  Romalda  hearkened,  and  she  smiled  approv 
ingly  as  she  gave  him  her  hand  to  kiss  at  parting. 

"Soon  will  I  return  and  claim  my  bride.  The  days  I 
spend  in  the  Californias,  in  preparation  for  your  com 
ing,  will  be  as  months  and  years  to  me." 

She  smiled  kindly  yet  again,  and  waved  a  kiss  at  him 
as  he  rode  forth  from  her  father's  gate  to  prepare  the 
home  for  her  across  the  many  seas. 

The  soldier  reached  his  California  estate  in  due 
season,  and  with  industry  set  about  his  task  of  love. 


38      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

A  hacienda  house  reached  high  its  walls  on  an  emi 
nence  near  the  mountain  side  of  the  estate.  Moorish 
in  architecture,  its  towers  proudly  surveyed  the  leagues 
of  miles  comprising  the  Mendoza  grant.  Tree  and 
plant  and  flower  smiled  around  it  in  the  genial  warmth 
of  semitropic  atmosphere.  Avenues  of  olive  lined  its 
approaches.  The  Mission  grapevine  draped  many 
arbors  which  were  arranged  in  labyrinthine  plan,  all 
centering,  after  infinite  curious  turns,  at  the  front  door 
of  the  mansion. 

Many  ships  brought  furnishings  from  the  world  over 
for  this  wonderful  palace. 

The  herds  fattened  for  the  killing,  and  were  of  great 
increase  on  this  domain,  as  needs  be,  for  the  expense 
of  the  hacienda  house  was  in  keeping  with  its  size  and 
beauty. 

At  last  all  was  ready  for  the  bride.     But 

Mexico  had  declared  for  independence,  and  was 
making  good  this  declaration  by  force  of  arms.  Cali 
fornia  would  be  compelled  either  to  stand  with  Mexico 
or  to  fall  with  mother  Spain.  Colonel  Mendoza's  na 
tural  gifts  included  statecraft.  He  did  not  oppose  the 
inevitable.  California  became  a  province  of  the 
republic  of  Mexico. 

Now  hastened  the  Colonel  to  claim  his  bride.  In 
Madrid  he  found  his  brother  dead,  leaving  no  direct 
heir.  The  soldier-cavalier  claimed  title  and  estates,  but 
the  royal  court  rebuffed  him.  He  was  a  foreigner  now. 
His  acceptance  of  Mexican  dominion  had  cost  him  his 
Spanish  citizenship.  The  laws  of  entail  debarred  him 
from  succession. 


A  DIP  INTO  THE  PAST  39 

He  urged  the  inevitableness  of  the  separation  of 
Mexico  from  Spain,  also  his  years  of  service  in  the 
Spanish  army;  likewise  the  claims  of  his  family  to  the 
good  will  of  the  kingdom.  All  was  in  vain. 

Hastening  to  the  castle  of  his  betrothed,  he  made 
known  his  presence,  and  asked  to  see  the  Lady  Ro- 
malda. 

Her  father  met  him  in  his  stead. 

"My  daughter,  the  noble  dona,  desires  to  see  you  not, 
Sir  Foreigner.  For  my  part  I  request  that  you  depart 
from  this  place  and  never  return." 

"Foreigner  or  not,  I'll  hear  the  rejection  from  the 
lady's  own  lips.  I  demand  to  see  the  Lady  Romalda, 
my  affianced  wife." 

After  much  parley  the  father  brought  his  daughter 
to  see  the  determined  man. 

Mendoza  told  her  again  of  the  home  prepared  for 
her  near  the  shores  of  the  sunny  Pacific,  of  the  beauty 
and  luxuriance  well-nigh  Oriental,  of  the  wealth  of 
the  land,  of  the  promise  of  the  future. 

"Peons,  slaves,  senorita,  numbering  hundreds,  await 
your  pleasure  there.  A  princess  will  you  be,  and  I  will 
be  your  lover-husband.  Say  you  will  come  with  me." 

The  Lady  Romalda  smiled  coldly.  "You  may  be 
come  a  self-styled  prince  among  a  barbarous  and  re 
bellious  people.  Be  assured  I  shall  never  be  a  princess 
of  such  dishonor." 

She  swept  in  disdain  from  the  room. 

Mendoza  returned  to  Madrid.  Calling  on  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  Spanish  army,  he  held  before 
him  the  written  letters  of  his  colonelcy. 


40      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"This  paper  means  I  am  a  colonel  in  the  army  of  this 
kingdom.  I  am  such  no  more."  He  tore  in  halves  the 
commission. 

"Are  you  a  madman,  Colonel  Mendoza?"  asked  the 
general. 

"Behold!" 

Bending  his  sword  over  his  knee  he  broke  it  into 
pieces  and  cast  them  on  the  floor.  "By  this  act  I  for 
swear  Spain  forever." 

The  old  general  began  to  remonstrate  with  him,  but 
Mendoza  turned  on  his  heel  and  was  gone. 

Great  preparations  were  under  way  for  the  return 
to  California  of  the  lord  of  the  rancho  Mendoza  with  his 
lady  bride.  The  whole  valley  was  ready  to  make  the 
occasion  a  gala  time. 

Alone,  and  by  night,  he  came.  Calling  his  major- 
domos  and  head  peons  together,  he  gave  orders  which 
were  to  be  executed  early  on  the  morrow,  by  his  thou 
sand  vassals. 

They  were  frightened.  "Our  master  is  out  of  his 
head!"  they  exclaimed  in  awe-struck  tones.  Hastening 
they  told  some  of  the  Spanish  neighbors  of  the  return 
of  Senor  Mendoza  and  of  his  startling  commands. 

The  Spanish  confreres  were  soon  at  the  castlelike 
hacienda  house. 

"Senor,  the  Colonel  Mendoza "  began  one. 

"Senor  Mendoza  I  am.    Never  again  colonel." 

"But,sefior,the  peons  tell  us  of  your  strange  desires." 

"My  desires  shall  be  executed,  strange  or  not.  At 
daybreak  to-morrow  not  a  stone  stands  on  stone  in  this 
hacienda  house.  On  these  grounds  not  tree  or  plant 


A  DIP  INTO  THE  PAST  41 

or  shrub  stands  unuprooted  before  the  darkness  of  an 
other  day." 

"But,  sefior,  has  your  visit  to  Spain  affected " 

"My  visit  to  Spain  has  affected  me  greatly.  Friends 
and  neighbors,  at  another  time  I,  and  all  I  have,  shall 
be  at  your  disposal.  Permit  me  now  to  bid  you  good 
night." 

Very  early  next  morning  the  hills  echoed  to  the 
titanic  roar  of  the  powder  magazine  under  the  ha 
cienda  house,  which  had  been  kept  there  for  uses  of 
the  hunt,  and  for  defense  and  offense.  Sefior  Mendoza's 
own  hand  had  lighted  the  train.  Soon  fire  skirted  top 
pling  tower  and  parapet,  searched  ruined  reception 
halls,  licked  up  furniture  and  bric-a-brac,  and  charred 
rare  valuables.  Daylight  saw  not  Moorish  castle,  but 
blocks  of  blackened  building  stones  and  smoking  rub 
bish. 

Countless  peons,  with  spades,  picks  and  axes,  dug  up 
the  green  and  growing  things,  broke  down  terraces, 
tore  away  grape  arbors,  and  everywhere  did  works 
of  devastation. 

Senor  Mendoza,  as  if  commanding  in  battle,  directed 
his  workmen.  Trees  and  shrubs  were  piled  high.  Fire, 
made  hotter  by  kegs  of  turpentine,  soon  brought  all 
to  ash-heaps.  Great  pits  were  dug  into  which  the  stones 
of  the  hacienda  building  were  placed,  also  the  ashes 
from  the  bonfires. 

"Now,"  commanded  Mendoza,  "fill  in  these  trenches." 

It  was  done. 

"Senors,"  he  said  at  nightfall,  when  all  was  over, 
"thus  I  bury  the  past.  Henceforth,  remember,  I  pray 


42      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

you,  that  I  am  Sefior  Mendoza,  the  Californian,  that, 
and  that  only." 

The  rains  of  the  following  winter  made  the  site  of 
the  once-beautiful  castle  and  grounds  again  a  part  of 
the  rolling,  grassy  lands  overlooking  the  valley. 

Senor  Mendoza  devoted  himself  faithfully  to  the  in 
terests  of  his  rancho  and  the  welfare  of  California. 

He  built  another  home  five  miles  from  where  the  first 
had  been,  and  altogether  out  of  sight  of  it ;  a  house  of 
California  style,  the  buildings  forming  three  sides  of 
a  square,  with  a  wall  making  the  fourth  side  of  the 
courtyard  within. 

In  middle  life  the  wish  had  come  to  found  a  family 
to  succeed  him  in  his  possessions.  He  married  the 
daughter  of  a  neighbor,  a  maiden  of  Castilian  blood, 
but  of  California  birth.  A  child  was  born  to  them,  a 
daughter,  and  in  that  hour  his  wife  died.  Never 
was  parent  kinder  or  gentler  than  Senor  Mendoza  to 
the  Doila  Carmelita,  his  pride  and  joy. 

The  authorities  in  Mexico  City  thought  it  right  to 
deprive  the  Franciscan  friars  of  a  part  of  the  lands 
they  held  in  Alta  California,  this  act  of  the  seculariza 
tion  of  the  missions  causing  comment  of  both  approval 
and  disapproval. 

The  leaders  in  the  capital  city  chose  Senor  Mendoza 
to  administer  the  claims  of  church  and  state  in  the 
valley  of  Santa  Clara.  Thus  he  became  administrator 
of  the  Mission  of  San  Jose,  where  the  opening  of  this 
story  found  him,  a  man  of  strength  and  of  honesty,  a 
statesman  and  a  courtly  gentleman. 


CHAPTER  IV 
A  STRANGER  VISITS  SENOR  MENDOZA 

"T)APACITO  mine,  I'm  all  ready  for  the  party  this 
••-  evening.  My  maids  have  just  finished  with  me. 
What  do  you  think  of  me?" 

The  Senorita  Carmelita  pirouetted  into  her  father's 
sitting  room,  stood  on  one  foot,  then  on  the  other, 
finally  turning  completely  around. 

"Papacito,  what  do  you  think  of  me?"  she  asked 
again. 

The  father  knit  his  brows  in  pretended  deep  consid 
eration. 

"Hurry !  Hurry,  papacito !  Really  I  can't  wait  any 
longer,  I'm  so  anxious  to  know." 

"My  child,  you  make  me  think  of  a  very  pretty,  very 
dainty  wild  flower." 

"Just  a  flower,  papacito  ?"  in  mock  disappointment. 

"Well,  a  flower  with  laughing  eyes,  splendid  hair,  and 
white  plumage,"  pointing  to  her  dress. 

"That's  better,  little  papa,  somewhat  better.  Isn't 
it  magnificent  that  we're  to  have  a  valecito  casero  ?  In 
school  in  Mexico  City  we  went  to  bed  regularly  at  eight 
o'clock.  To-night  it  will  be  midnight,  and  later.  When 
I  think  of  my  present  freedom  and  the  old  school  days 

43 


44      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

my  heart  rejoices  itself;  yet  I  loved  the  school  and 
everyone  in  it.  Often  in  dreams  I  am  in  those  old  rooms 
overlooking  the  Plaza  Mercedes,  and  I  hear  the  splash 
ing  of  the  fountains  and  the  singing  of  the  birds." 

"My  child's  heart  lives  in  scenes  left  behind  months 
ago,  yet  the  spirit  rejoices  in  present  liberty.  Well,  it 
is  the  way  of  the  world." 

Carmelita  was  sitting  on  the  arm  of  her  father's  chair 
stroking  his  face  and  hands,  and  occasionally  giving 
gentle  pulls  to  his  long  mustache.  Strangely  alike 
were  these  two,  the  slender,  dark-eyed  girl,  and  the 
stalwart,  graying  man,  athletic-appearing  even  in  his 
years.  The  waving  mane  above  his  forehead  was 
the  prototype  of  the  coal-black  hair  of  the  senorita 
which  billowed  over  her  shoulders  and  fell  below  her 
waist. 

His  cheek  was  bronze,  showing  dashes  of  red;  hers 
was  creamy,  with  the  blush  of  youth  surmounting;  but 
it  was  the  contour  of  face  and  form  of  both,  strongly 
chiseled,  yet  superbly  fine,  that  bespoke  a  model  fash 
ioned  and  perfected  generations  before  in  aristocratic 
Spain. 

"What  a  philosopher  my  father  is !"  Then,  after  a 
moment:  "Yesterday  Sefior  Zelaya  said  to  Senor  Hi- 
guera,  as  they  passed  along  the  corridor,  'But  the  Ad 
ministrator  says  that  we  must  educate  ourselves  to  a 
deeper  appreciation — '  I  did  not  catch  the  rest.  Sefior 
Higuera  replied,  'And  the  Administrator  Jias  a  phi 
losophy  of  deep  and  wide  application.'  Tell  me  about 
it." 

"My  daughter,  I  think  you  would  prefer  a  more  in- 


A  STRANGER  VISITS  MENDOZA          45 

teresting  story.  My  philosophy,  if  you  made  it  rightly, 
has  been  long  in  coming  to  me.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  estate  of  womanhood  now  present  with  you  seems  to 
have  grown  overnight." 

Carmelita  arose,  curtsied  to  her  father,  then  re 
sumed  her  seat. 

"But  my  philosophy  touches  not  any  abstract  prin 
ciple.  It  deals  only  with  powers  that  move  the  human 
heart." 

"Vast  political  forces  are  astir  in  this  old  world  of 
ours.  The  theory  that  God  appoints  kings  is  rapidly 
dissipating.  The  sun  of  democracy,  long  mantled  by 
the  fog  of  tyranny,  shines  soon  in  unobscured  ray.  In 
the  to-morrow  of  to-morrow  shall  the  people  rule,  as 
their  right  divine." 

The  senorita  smiled  into  her  father's  eyes.  "Lolita 
Hernandez  once  said  to  me,  a  long  time  ago,  when  she 
was  petulant,  that  my  father  is  a  rebel.  I  replied  by 
calling  her  a  minx." 

The  old  don  made  no  reply ;  but  continued :  "  'West 
ward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way.'  An  English 
poet  sings  this  truly  and  well.  To  the  east  of  California 
is  a  republic  destined  to  a  colossal  future,  because  it  is 
founded  on  the  principle  that  all  men  are  created  equal, 
and  its  national  life  rises  toward  a  realization  of  that 
truth.  To  that  height  must  rise  not  alone  the  Saxon 
but  the  Latin  as  well. 

"The  geography  of  nations  in  our  Western  world 
must  soon  change,  under  the  influence  of  the  democratic 
idea.  As  certain  as  the  sun  rose  this  morning  and  now 
urges  to  the  setting,  will  either  the  American  or  the 


46      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

English  flag  float  from  the  staff  within  our  courtyard 
before  our  province  has  seen  but  a  few  more  years  of 
life." 

"But,"  hesitatingly  from  the  girl,  "will  you  not  fight 
against  this  aggression?" 

"No;  nor  could  I  stem  the  tide  if  I  did.  The  logic 
of  events  grinds,  as  do  the  mills  of  the  gods,  exceeding 
fine.  In  the  great  world  battle  between  people  and 
potentate,  victory,  final  and  complete,  will  rest  one 
day  with  the  people.  The  cost  of  that  battle  will  be 
measured  in  centuries  of  time,  the  blood  of  nations,  the 
sacrifice  of  warriors  and  statesmen.  Runnymede,  in 
the  south  of  England,  in  the  year  1215,  saw  the  begin 
ning  of  the  conflict  when  the  people  forced  King  John 
to  sign  the  Magna  Charta!" 

"History  speaks  of  the  family  de  la  Mendoza  as  made 
up  of  warriors.  Your  own  name,  father  mine,  is  men 
tioned,  and  not  as  the  least,  yet  you  will  never  speak 
to  me  of  any  battle." 

He  pointed  to  a  small  painting.  It  depicted  Water 
loo. 

"I'd  give  my  experience  of  all  the  battles  I've  seen 
could  I  have  stood  there  that  evening  with  Wellington, 
on  Mount  Saint  Jean,  when  the  sun  of  day  had  set  and 
Napoleon's  sun  of  destiny  with  it.  I  would  have  re 
joiced  to  have  chased  the  emperor  of  the  French  over 
the  plowed  field  at  night,  as  does  a  hound  drive  the 
hare.  Yet — what  matters  it  all?  As  well  for  Napoleon 
to  rule,  or  misrule,  as  for  any  other  tyrant,  be  he 
anointed  king  or  not.  The  day  of  the  people  comes, 
and  I  rejoice." 


A  STRANGER  VISITS  MENDOZA          47 

"Shall  we  follow  new  ways  and  customs  then,  my 
father?" 

"Quite  possibly.  And  yet,  think  you  not  it  a  pretty 
custom  when  the  Spaniard  comes  with  his  guitar  and 
improvises  sweet  music  outside  the  embrasure  window 
of  the  senorita?  No?" 

The  dona  blushed  rosy  red. 

"What  a  papacito !"  kissing  him  to  cover  her  con 
fusion.  "How  shall  the  senorita  inside  the  embrasure 
prevent  the  music-inclined  caballero  on  the  outside  from 
touching  the  strings  of  his  guitar?" 

Mendoza  laughed  while  looking  fondly  at  his  daugh 
ter. 

"You  ask  me  how  the  dona  may  discourage  the 
suitor?  Ah,  little  one,  how  can  I  tell  you?  The  claws 
show  sharp  and  repelling,  or  presto!  all  is  soft  and 
smooth  as  velvet.  What  works  the  wonder,  ask  you? 
Ah,  Carmelita  mia !  Lolita  Hernandez  is  not  the  only 
minx  in  the  world." 

The  girl  playfully  tugged  at  her  father's  thick 
hair. 

"What  a  father  is  mine !  He  has  seen  all  things  and 
has  accomplished  all  things,"  changing  the  subject. 
"Has  ever  there  been  an  ungratified  wish  in  your  life, 
except  the  one  to  chase  the  emperor  of  the  French 
across  plowed  fields  ?  If  so,  now  is  your  chance.  I  will 
be  your  fairy  godmother.  Come,  make  your  wish,  and, 
behold !  It  is  done." 

She  had  slipped  from  the  chair  and  standing,  held 
her  arms  extended  over  him.  "Make  your  wish  now," 
laughingly. 


48      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"My  child,  I  have  a  wish,  but  its  fulfillment  would 
involve  the  folding  together  of  events  that  time  has  un 
folded;  indeed,  the  turning  backward  of  time." 

She  dropped  her  hands  in  concern.  "O,  papacito, 
tell  me  your  desire,"  coming  again  to  the  arm  of  his 
chair. 

He  did  not  reply. 

"O,  little  papa,  you  are  so  serious.  Please  tell  me 
what  it  is." 

"I  wish,  little  girl,  that  as  a  stripling  I  had  come  here 
and  had  built  my  life  into  this  Western  world.  That 
favor  of  kings  I  had  never  known — I  care  nothing  for 
their  disfavor — but  of  my  own  self,  coupled  with  the 
resources  with  which  nature  has  endowed  California,  I 
had  evolved  the  best  that  fortune  would  have  sent  me, 
were  it  hacienda  house  and  administratorship,  or  a  hum 
ble  hut  with  modest  plot  of  ground,  such  as  has  the  least 
of  my  peons." 

A  tap  at  the  door. 

"Enter,"  from  Mendoza. 

A  peon  stepped  within.  Thrice  he  bowed  low  to  the 
master,  then  to  the  dona. 

"Senor  Mendoza,  a  stranger  awaits  you  in  the  outer 
office." 

"Does  he  give  his  name?" 

"Here  it  is,  senor." 

The  peon  porter  handed  Mendoza  a  piece  of  paper  on 
which  was  written,  in  bold,  rough  characters,  "Charles 
O'Donnell." 

"O'Donnell — O'Donnell — Let  him  enter." 

The  peon  again  bowed  low  to  the  master  and  his 


A  STRANGER  VISITS  MENDOZA          49 

daughter.  Backing  through  the  door,  he  bowed  once 
more.  Almost  immediately  the  stranger,  O'Donnell, 
stood  in  the  doorway.  Sefior  Mendoza  was  on  his  feet 
formally  awaiting  his  visitor. 

The  man's  broad,  strong  shoulders  touched  from 
doorpost  to  doorpost,  his  head  barely  coming  within 
the  door  without  his  stooping.  His  buckskin  shirt, 
opening  low  at  the  front,  showed  the  long,  red  beard 
which  was  fastened  together  by  a  cord,  and  disappeared 
into  the  expanse  of  his  chest. 

His  hair,  darker  than  his  beard,  was  long  and  bushy. 
This  also  was  caught  by  a  string  and  was  partially  hid 
den  under  his  shirt. 

Steely-blue  eyes  looked  out  over  regular  features.  A 
sombrero  was  in  his  hand.  His  buckskin  trousers  were 
protected  from  hip  to  knee  by  shaggy  leggings  of  bear 
skin. 

"Sefior  O'Donnell,  will  you  enter  and  be  seated?" 

"I  thank  you."  The  stranger  moved  toward  a  chair 
with  dignified  and  soldierly  step. 

"Senor,  the  Administrator  Mendoza,  I  am  here  to 
inquire  if  you  know  of  the  present  whereabouts  of  one 
Captain  Farquharson,  an  Englishman  who  left  Mexico 
City  some  months  ago  to  hunt  big  game  in  our  high 
Sierras  here." 

"Senor  O'Donnell,  why  do  you  ask  of  me  the  present 
abiding  place  of  this  Englishman?  I  am  Administrator 
of  the  Mission  of  San  Jose.  My  jurisdiction  does  not 
reach  to  the  high  Sierras,  nor  to  the  city  of  Mexico." 

Mendoza's  glance  was  careless  as  he  thus  replied  to 
the  questioner. 


50       THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Ah,  worthy  senor,  you  are  a  well-known  man  in  Alta 
California.  Not  less,  perhaps,  is  your  name  known  in 
the  Mexican  capital.  What  wonder,  then,  if  some 
leisured  traveler  touching  that  capital  should  bear  writ 
ten  words  thence  to  you  here?  So  I  rode  to  you  on  my 
errand  of  inquiry.  If  you  know  nothing  of  the  man,  I 
shall  ride  still  farther  on  my  quest." 

"Senor  O'Donnell,  famine  is  abroad,  since  the  rains 
fall  not.  Entertainment  for  yourself  and  feed  for  your 
horse  are  welcome  to  you  in  my  hacienda.  Why  not 
rest  here  for  a  while?  Perhaps  some  of  my  major- 
domos  may  have  news  of  this  captain,  or  some  of  the 
peons  recently  returned  from  the  headwaters  of  the 
river  San  Joaquin  where  our  cattle  are  now  grazing. 
The  Sierras  lie  but  across  from  these  headwaters,  and 
among  our  peons  are  hunters  not  a  few.  Rest  among 
us,  my  friend  O'Donnell,  and  from  some  direction  you 
may  find  the  information  you  are  seeking." 

The  man  shook  his  head.  "My  horse  has  carried  me 
a  hundred  miles  to-day,  and  yet  he  is  ready  to  bear  me 
farther.  With  such  a  mount  I  can  find  food  for  myself 
and  fodder  for  him,  easily,  when  night  falls.  Hear  now 
his  song?  Drumlummon  skirls  a  merry  note." 

With  a  laugh  the  bearded  man  arose.  The  screaming 
neigh  of  a  stallion  was  echoing  among  the  buildings  of 
the  hacienda. 

"My  horse  is  ready  for  the  road.  I  thank  you  for 
your  hospitality  just  the  same.  Adios,  noble  Admin 
istrator." 

"Wait,  good  Senor  O'Donnell.  A  glass  of  wine  makes 
readier  the  foot  for  the  stirrup." 


A  STRANGER  VISITS  MENDOZA          51 

He  touched  a  bell.  A  peon  came,  and  disappeared  on 
his  errand. 

"Tell  me,  senor,  while  the  wine  is  coming,  do  you  know 
this  Englishman  of  whom  you  speak  as  Farquharson  ?" 

"Several  years  ago  I  saw  Captain  Farquharson  con 
siderably,"  tersely. 

"Ah,  Senor  O'Donnell,  you  too  are  a  soldier,  as  your 
bearing  shows.  You  speak  of  your  friend  as  Captain 
Farquharson.  Perhaps  you  were  brother  officers  in 
English  service.  Is  it  so?" 

"No,"  hoarsely  replied  O'Donnell  in  English,  "it  was 
not  so.  I  thought  I'd  done  for  the  fellow  that  day  on 
the  parade  ground " 

As  he  did  not  continue  Senor  Mendoza  said:  ">h,  my 
friend  O'Donnell  speaks  the  English.  I  have  studied 
your  language  and  I  read  your  books,"  indicating  a 
shelf  on  which  were  a  number  of  works  by  English 
historians  and  political  economists.  "Ah,  here  comes 
the  wine." 

"Forgive  my  curiosity,  Senor  O'Donnell,  in  my  recent 
questioning.  I  am  greatly  interested  in  English  officers. 
Just  before  you  came  I  was  speaking  with  my  daughter 
of  the  battle  of  Waterloo.  You  could  not  have  been 
present.  You  have  not  years  enough,"  looking  at  the 
face,  yet  young,  of  the  man  before  him. 

"I  was  not  in  the  army  at  that  time,"  replied  O'Don 
nell.  "Allow  me  to  say,  Senor  Administrator,  you  serve 
nectar  here,"  sipping  his  wine. 

"This  Farquharson,"  persisted  Mendoza,  "who  you 
say  is  older  than  you,  perhaps  he  took  part  in  that 
famous  battle." 


52       THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  did  not  say  Farquharson  is  older  than  I.  I  said 
I  once  knew  him." 

A  dark  look  shaded  O'Donnell's  face  as  he  spoke. 

"Perhaps  you  were  rivals  in  those  times,"  still  per 
sisted  Mendoza,  noticing  the  shadows.  "Some  wine  in 
your  glass,  my  friend?  Well,  war  and  love  have  made 
many  an  enemy." 

Again  the  neigh  of  the  stallion  was  heard. 

"Drumlummon's  second  call.  I  must  be  going.  Per 
haps  Captain  Farquharson  may  call  on  you  soon.  In 
deed,  I'm  sure  he  will ;  for  I  remember  now  that  he  has 
letters  of  introduction  to  you  from  Don  Juan  Domingo, 
first  assistant  to  the  secretary  of  state  of  Mexico." 

Senor  Mendoza  bowed  courteously,  as  if  some  or 
dinary  information  had  been  given  him. 

A  sound  of  approaching  voices  reached  their  ears. 

"Papacito,  our  guests  are  arriving.  I  shall  leave 
you."  Carmelita  approached  from  the  rear  of  the  room 
where  she  had  been  occupied  with  a  book. 

The  squeaking  of  carretas  (wooden  wagons)  was  now 
plainly  heard,  also  the  tramp  of  horses,  the  laughter  of 
men,  and  the  gay,  bantering  tones  of  women.  Anon 
arose  the  angry  cry  of  O'Donnell's  stallion. 

"The  guests  are  truly  coming.  Carmelita,  my  child, 
see  that  the  servants  neglect  neither  duty  nor  courtesy." 

To  O'Donnell,  who  was  standing  ready  to  depart: 
"Senor,  I'll  attend  you  myself  as  you  go  forth." 

Soon  the  dressing  rooms  were  filled  with  young  girls, 
laughing  and  joyous.  A  dash  of  powder  on  the  face, 
the  hair  smoother,  laces  adjusted,  all  under  the  watch 
ful  eye  of  mother  or  duena. 


A  STRANGER  VISITS  MENDOZA          53 

The  young  dandies  in  their  rooms  were  scarcely  less 
fastidious  than  their  sweethearts  and  sisters. 

At  a  quarter  before  six  the  company  was  assembled 
in  the  reception  hall.  Jokes  and  sallies  went  around  the 
room. 

Carmelita  noticed  that  her  father  was  not  present 
and  sent  a  peon  to  call  him.  The  servant  returned  with 
the  word  that  the  sefior  and  the  gringo  stranger  were 
in  the  outer  office.  He  did  not  dare  disturb  them. 

Five  minutes  passed.  Merriment  grew  louder.  Some 
one  saw  on  a  secretary  a  chart  giving  the  places  of 
the  guests  at  table.  The  merrymakers  crowded  around. 

The  dona  slipped  away  and  no  one  noticed. 

Her  father  and  O'Donnell  were  standing  just  outside 
the  courtyard  gate.  Two  or  three  peons  were  holding 
O'Donnell's  horse  which  was  restive,  pawing  and  biting 
at  them.  The  two  men  spoke  English  and  thus  freely, 
as  none  of  the  peons  understood  that  tongue. 

"Men  are  playing  to-day  and  an  empire  makes  the 
stake,"  O'Donnell  said.  "Farquharson  is  sitting  in  the 
game,  and,  by  faith !  so  am  I." 

Mendoza  nodded. 

"And,  Administrator  Mendoza,  so  are  you — and  the 
chief  player !  Did  not  your  recent  visit  to  Mexico  ac 
quaint  you  with  the  trump  card?" 

Mendoza  smiled  pleasantly. 

The  stallion  came  closer  to  them,  dragging  the  peons 
with  him.  He  seized  the  shirt  of  one  of  them  and  tore 
it  from  his  back. 

"Quiet,  Drumlummon !"  Then  to  the  servants,  "Un 
loose  him."  The  huge  animal  came  fawning  to  his  side. 


54      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Without  touching  hand  to  the  horse  O'Donnell 
vaulted  the  saddle. 

"A  moment,  O'Donnell." 

The  man  leaned  in  his  saddle. 

"You  say  I'm  sitting  in  the  game  and  the  stake  is 
large.  Well  said,  perhaps.  But  remember,  if  I  play 
I'll  use  the  card  that  means  the  most  to  the  province 
of  California."  The  senor  again  nodded,  as  if  retailing 
some  pleasantry  of  the  day. 

O'Donnell  rode  away. 

"Papacito !"  called  Carmelita.  "It  is  late.  We  are 
waiting." 

In  a  moment  they  were  with  their  guests. 

Folding  doors  opened  and  the  well-lighted  dining 
room  was  before  them. 

At  once  dinner  was  under  way.  The  peons,  trained  by 
Meridoza,  served  well.  The  generous  hospitality  of 
early  California  found  expression  in  the  viands  and 
vintages  which  Mendoza  offered  his  guests.  Peons 
touched  fitting  music  from  stringed  instruments ;  others 
sang  in  the  melodious  voice  of  the  aborigine. 

"Senorita  Mendoza,  heard  you  not  that  the  great 
spring  merienda  comes  early  this  year  by  reason  of  the 
drought?"  asked  Captain  Morando. 

"Does  a  picnic  so  interest you,Comandante Morando?" 

"Never  have  I  seen  such  a  picnic  as  must  be  the 
spring  merienda  in  the  valley  of  Calaveras.  Everywhere 
I  hear  people  speak  of  it." 

"Soon  you  may  judge  of  its  excellence  for  yourself. 
Now  begins  to  sing  my  peona,  Modesta.  Her  voice 
equals  in  sweetness  the  notes  of  the  thrush.  Listen, 


A  STRANGER  VISITS  MENDOZA          55 

while  she  gives  the  ancient  airs  of  Oroysom.  They  are 
heart-touching  and  beautiful." 

The  sefiorita's  duena  engaged  Moranda's  attention 
the  moment  the  singing  ceased,  suddenly  remembering 
to  ask  for  some  acquaintance  in  San  Jose. 

"Senorita  Dona  Mendoza,  say  I  have  your  first  dance 
this  evening?"  called  Abelardo  Peralto  from  across 
the  table. 

"I,  the  second,"  cried  Miguel  Soto. 

"I,  the  third,"  from  another. 

"Senorita  Dona,"  asked  Morando  as  soon  as  he  was 
at  liberty,  "have  you  a  dance  left  for  me?" 

"First  come,  first,  served,  is  the  law  in  this  province," 
she  replied  mischievously. 

"Then  I  am  to  have  no  dance  with  you  to-night," 
despairingly. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  the  saying  about  the  early  bird 
and  the  worm,  Captain?"  laughed  Peralta. 

"I  object  to  being  compared  to  a  worm,"  said  Car- 
melita.  "For  your  punishment,  Sefior  Don  Abelardo 
Peralta,  I  deprive  you  of  the  grand  march,  which  be 
longs  to  the  first  dance,  and  I  give  it  to  the  Senor 
Captain." 

"Woe !  Woe !"  cried  Peralta.  "I  will  be  the  worm, 
Senorita  Mendoza.  You  are  the  beautiful  early  bird. 
O,  do  not  punish  me !" 

The  girl  looked  at  him  with  mock  severity.  "I  have 
given  my  sentence." 

The  host  touched  a  bell. 

"Are  we  ready  for  the  dancing?"  he  asked. 

The  company  cheered  heartily. 


56      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  hear  the  musicians  tuning  their  instruments.  Let 
us  hence.  If  we  cannot  have  the  patter  of  rain  during 
this  season  of  drought,  we  can  at  least  have  the  patter 
of  feet." 

Laughing  and  happy,  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
province  repaired  to  the  dancing  room. 


CHAPTER  V 
ANOTHER  STRANGER  MAKES  A  VISIT 

"T    HEAR  the  neigh  of  horses  and  the  shouts  of  men. 
-I      Has  Dario,  the  head  vaquero,  returned  from  the 
valley  of  the  San  Joaquin?     Or,  perchance,  is  it  some 
messenger  from  him?" 

"Reverend  padre,  you  hear  the  work  Indians  return 
ing  with  their  farm  animals  from  the  irrigated  ground 
near  the  great  spring.  It  is  the  noon  hour." 

The  first  speaker  was  the  friar,  Lusciano  Osuna, 
spiritual  head  of  the  Mission  San  Jose.  He  was  tem 
poral  head  also  of  the  Mission  grounds  and  buildings, 
together  with  a  wide  strip  of  country  reaching  over 
rolling  land,  hills  and  mountains,  away  east  to  the  San 
Joaquin  River. 

The  padre  was  ill.  His  parched  lips  and  flushed  fore 
head  showed  him  to  be  in  the  grip  of  fever.  Restlessly 
he  tossed  from  side  to  side  of  his  bed.  It  was  an  un 
usual-appearing  bed.  Hewn  redwood  logs  of  goodly 
dimension  had  been  made  in  a  frame  held  together 
by  mortising  at  the  corners.  Strips  of  rawhide  ran 
across  the  frame  from  side  to  side,  another  layer  from 
end  to  end.  A  pallet  of  straw  was  the  mattress;  the 
covering  was  lambskin  tanned  without  removing  the 
wool. 

57 


58      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Open  the  window  and  the  door,  Juan  Antonio.  My 
blood  boils  away  in  this  heat,  and  my  strength  ebbs 
out." 

The  hot  north  wind,  which  for  days  had  been 
scorching  the  valley  of  Santa  Clara,  rolled  into  the 
room. 

"It  is   little   avail,   dear   father,   to    seek   or   avoid 

'aughts  when  the  San  Joaquin  fever  possesses  one. 
Its  nature  is  to  burn  till  the  body  seems  a  crisp,  then 
to  freeze  till  the  flesh  is  like  damp  clay." 

"Juan  Antonio,  you  are  right.  Still,  it  is  a  satisfac 
tion  to  feel  the  living  air  whether  it  touches  one's  ail 
ment  or  not." 

The  light  from  the  open  window  shone  on  the  friar's 
face.  He  was  nervously  pulling  his  heavy  black  beard 
through  his  fingers.  The  features  thus  brought  into 
relief  were  those  of  the  hidalgo,  bold  and  strong,  and 
were  illuminated  by  keen  intelligence  within.  The  skin 
showed  another  strain  darker  than  Caucasian. 

"Antonio,  did  all  the  Indians  attend  chapel  this  morn 
ing?  Have  you  heard  of  any  further  evidences  of 
lapse  into  paganism  anywhere  in  the  valley?" 

"Our  Indians,  men,  women  and  children,  are  faithful 
in  their  attendance,  since  the  day  you  quenched  the 
evil  spirit  in  them.  To-morrow  we  conclude  the  Novena 
— nine  days'  prayer — for  you.  All  are  praying  most 
fervently  that  our  Lady  and  Saint  Francis,  yes,  and 
San  Jose,  will  favor  us  and  you  with  speedy  and  com 
plete  recovery." 

"You  are  good,  very  good,  my  major-domo." 

"To-day  at  morning  meal  were  some  Indians  from 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  59 

the  San  Bias  just  in  at  Monterey.  At  once  I  dispatched 
thither  the  peon,  Pedro  Carrasca,  the  best  rider  in  the 
valley.  Six  hours'  journey  it  is  to  Monterey,  six  hours' 
rest,  and  six  returning,  makes  eighteen.  Pedro  Car 
rasca  rests  not  if  among  the  ship's  goods  is  numbered 
Jesuit  bark,  but  he  presses  homeward  with  the  medi 
cine.  For  each  hour  less  than  twelve  that  he  consumes 
in  rounding  Monterey  from  here  I  have  promised  him 
five  and  twenty  pesos." 

"You  have  done  well.  My  illness  possesses  me,  Juan 
Antonio.  Not  that  I  resist  suffering.  Did  not  my 
great  master,  Saint  Francis  of  Assisi,  bear  the  sacred 
stigmata  on  side  and  hands  and  feet?" 

The  Indian  reverently  made  the  sign  of  the  cross. 

The  padre  went  on : 

"Antonio,  you  speak  of  the  Novena.  How  many  days 
have  we  been  back?" 

"Eight  days." 

"It  has  seemed  longer,  much  Conger." 

"That  was  a  hard  ride  for  you  from  the  river  coun 
try,  Senor  Padre." 

"Yes,  it  was." 

"Swinging  over  mountain  and  scaling  precipice,  as 
did  we,  is  doubly  difficult  for  one  scarcely  able  to  sit  in 
the  saddle." 

"And  what  found  I  here?  Men,  and  women  too,  whom 
our  fathers  redeemed  from  savagery,  dancing  in  pagan 
worship  around  fires  which,  doubtless,  shortly  would 
have  become  fires  of  sacrifice." 

"I  know,  holy  padre;  and  I  remember  too  that  they 
followed  us  to  the  church,  consumed  by  that  strange 


60      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

fury ;  yet  you  drove  the  blood  demon  from  their  hearts, 
so  that  they  killed  not,  nor  destroyed,  but  obeyed  your 
commands ;  yes,  even  till  now." 

The  Indian  again  made  the  sign  of  the  cross. 

"It  is  well  to  forget — well  to  forget,"  mused  the 
friar.  "The  children,  after  all,  are  good  children." 

The  padre  was  endeavoring  to  hold  himself  against 
some  tremendous  inward  tension.  He  clenched  his 
hands  and  shut  tight  his  teeth.  Nature  could  not  sus 
tain  him  and  his  teeth  began  to  chatter,  while  his  hands 
wrapped  the  closer  the  lambskin  coverlet  about  his 
form. 

The  Indian  major-domo  closed  the  door.  Hastening 
to  the  window  he  drew  the  sash  into  place ;  then  began 
chafing  the  padre's  wrists  and  palms. 

"Courage,  good  padre,  courage!  A  little  time  and 
the  blood  is  warm  again,  the  strength  revives.  If  only 
Pedro  Carrasca  were  here  with  the  Jesuit  bark!  but 
he  comes  not  before  nightfall,  I  fear." 

The  friar's  eyes  closed  listlessly.  His  hands  grew 
colder,  despite  the  vigorous  treatment  given  by  the  In 
dian.  His  breath  was  short  and  weak. 

"Dios  y  Maria !"  exclaimed  Juan  Antonio.  He  took 
the  friar's  robe  hanging  from  a  peg  on  the  wall,  and 
carefully  spread  it  over  the  fainting  man. 

"Comes  now  the  chill  and  the  heart  weakens,"  mut 
tered  the  faithful  major-domo.  "That  hurried  ride 
from  the  San  Joaquin,  the  worry  over  the  Mission,  the 
drought " 

Footsteps  sounded  in  the  corridor.  Antonio  called, 
then  gave  incisive  commands  in  the  Indian  tongue.  The 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  61 

feet  scurried  away.  He  continued  the  energetic  rub 
bing,  praying  the  while. 

Excited  voices  were  heard  approaching.  The  door 
was  flung  open,  and  instantly  the  room  was  filled  with 
Indians.  A  woman  brought  a  kettle  of  hot  water;  an 
other,  a  stone  vessel.  A  man  brought  a  decanter  of 
aguardiente.  Whispering,  praying  Indians  rail  up  and 
down  the  corridor. 

As  the  women  saw  the  padre's  face,  white  and  still, 
they  thought  life  had  gone  out.  Grief  filled  their  hearts, 
welled  into  their  eyes  and  found  vent  by  their  tongue. 
The  loud  wail  of  the  d^ath-bedside  arose,  quavered,  fell, 
in  the  old  adobe  house. 

Juan  Antonio  endeavored  to  silence  them. 

"Quick,  with  the  hot  cloths  for  the  feet,  Luisa !  Make 
ready  the  heated  brandy,  you,  Crispinilla!  Quick, 
women,  the  padre's  need  is  urgent !" 

A  sigh  came  from  the  priest.  Then  all  was  still.  He 
seemed  to  sink  lower  into  his  couch. 

Even  Juan  Antonio  thought  that  now  life  was  gone. 
Instincts  of  forgotten  generations  stirred  the  old  man's 
heart.  He  began  to  intone  the  death  praises  of  the 
friar,  as,  for  untold  years,  had  his  forbears  done  for 
the  great  ones  of  their  tribe. 

"The  mighty  heart  is  still.  The  strong  hand  bends 
not  the  bow.  The  ready  feet  run  not.  The  king  elk 
walks  boldly  in  the  open.  The  timid  deer  fears  not  the 
arrow,  because  the  chief  man  of  his  people  hunts  no 
more." 

The  refrain  of  the  death-wail  overflowed  the  houses 
of  the  Mission,  ran  along  olive  orchard  and  vineyard, 


62      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

reacned  the  sentinels  watching  on  the  hills.  The  church 
bell,  in  sorrowing  tone,  sounded  its  toll  of  death.  One 
and  thirty  did  it  strike,  the  total  of  the  years  the  friar 
had  lived. 

At  the  last  stroke  the  padre's  eyelids  flickered  gently. 
The  pallor  of  his  cheeks  decreased.  Breathing,  almost 
imperceptible,  began.  Finally,  he  opened  his  eyes,  and 
saw  the  weeping,  gesticulating  men  and  women. 

"Silence!"  he  said  feebly.     "What  see  I  here?" 

Again,  in  stronger  accent,  "What  see  I  here?" 

Yet  again,  "What  see  I  here!" 

In  this  third  utterance  the  churchman  spoke  as  might 
a  king  in  presence  of  his  subjects.  The  wailing  ceased. 

He  raised  himself  on  elbow  and  pointed  to  the  door. 

"This  cell  is  within  the  precinct  of  sacred  cloister. 
Go,  women,  one  and  all !  Get  ye  gone  from  this  holy 
place !" 

The  women  fell  away  from  the  bed  and  seemed  to  melt 
through  the  door,  the  men  following  them.  Soon  Juan 
Antonio  stood  alone  with  the  padre. 

"What  have  you  done?"  demanded  the  friar,  sternly. 
Perspiration  again  was  on  his  forehead,  while  the  re 
turning  fever  gave  color  tc  the  face  and  strength  to 
the  body. 

"O,  Padre  Lusciano,  I  feared  you  were  dying.  All 
my  thoughts  were  for  nothing  but  to  save  you,  and  I 
called  for  help,  come  whence  it  might." 

"Juan  Antonio,  around  this  cell,  though  poor  and 
humble,  has  Holy  Church  drawn  her  solemn  circle  of 
isolation.  Let  no  woman  enter  herein,  even  to  save  my 
life.  If  I  die,  then  so  I  must.  Did  I  pronounce  the 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  63 

curse  on  the  luckless  daughter  of  Eve  and  her  male 
abettors  in  this  sacrilege,  no  one,  save  the  vicar  of 
Christ  in  Rome,  could  banish  it.  See,  Juan  Antonio, 
what  vast  evil  thy  thoughtless  hand  might  wreak." 

"O,  padre,"  wept  the  Indian,  "I  thought  thy  life  was 
struggling  to  free  itself  of  body,  and  my  heart  became 
water  within  me,  for  I  love  thee." 

"Very  well.  Very  well.  But,  Juan  Antonio,  in  the 
future  think  with  thy  head,  not  with  love  or  fear." 

Sefior  Mendoza  appeared  in  the  open  door. 

"Reverend  Padre  Osuna,  will  you  pardon  my  coming 
unannounced?  Each  day  since  you  returned  have  my 
servants  made  inquiry,  but  found  you  too  ill  to  receive 
a  visitor." 

"Enter,  Senor  Mendoza.     Please  seat  yourself." 

"Thank  you,  sir  Padre.  I  had  a  small  quantity  of 
Jesuit  bark,  invaluable  in  this  fever-and-ague  affliction. 
Unfortunately,  I  mislaid  the  bark,  not  finding  it  till 
to-day,  and  I  came  but  now  to  bring  it  in  person." 

"Very  kind  of  you,  senor." 

"I  heard  the  death-wail  of  the  Indians ;  heard,  also, 
the  toll  of  the  bell  marking  the  passing  of  an  officer  of 
the  church.  Your  Indians  first  told  me  you  were  dead, 
then  that  you  had  risen  from  the  dead.  So,  I  congratu 
late  you,  most  happy  that  no  need  exists  for  condo 
lences  to  anyone.  Padre  Osuna,  here  is  the  bark." 

Juan  Antonio  took  the  bark  and  laid  it  on  a  table 
by  the  bed  of  the  friar. 

"Many  thanks,  senor,  for  your  goodness.  As  head 
of  this  Mission  of  San  Jose  I  accept  the  gift  from 
Senor  Mendoza." 


64      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Mendoza  laughed  pleasantly.  "Then,  reverend 
senor,  as  administrator  of  this  Mission  of  San  Jose,  I 
offer  a  little  gift  of  Jesuit  bark  to  the  spiritual  leader 
of  the  vicinity." 

"Senor  Mendoza,  I  can  recognize  no  administrator 
of  these  mission  lands,  save  one,  and  that  is  I,  Padre 
Lusciano  Osuna.  My  Franciscan  brethren  rescued  this 
country  from  wilderness  and  its  people  from  savagery. 
This  Mexican  government  of  yours  then  comes,  takes 
away  two  thirds  of  the  land  and  its  appurtenances,  and 
gives  it  to  you  and  to  others  who  accept  it  and  hold  it. 
By  government  sanction  3^ou  administer,  Senor  Men 
doza;  but,  I  hold,  unjustly.  Never  by  word  or  act 
shall  I  acknowledge  your  authority  in  this  valley  of 
Santa  Clara." 

Senor  Mendoza  smiled.  His  equanimity  was  not 
easily  upset. 

"Good  reverend  padre,  hear  me.  Your  fathers  did, 
indeed,  redeem  this  country  and  its  savage  tribes.  A 
mighty  work  surely  has  been  done.  But,  because  of 
freeing  the  natives  from  paganism,  should  you  hold  this 
vast  province  in  fee  simple?  Is  it  right  that  a  score 
of  monks  should  own  the  land  from  San  Diego  to  Yerba 
Buena?  The  friars  still  possess  more  land  than  they 
can  either  occupy  or  cultivate — but  I  ask  your  pardon 
for  talking  thus  long  when  you  are  ill.  I  trust  the 
Jesuit  bark  will  not  fail  of  its  customary  happy  effect." 

"Your  wish  is  generous,  Senor  Mendoza." 

"Just  one  short  word  more.  I  would  like  to  thank 
you  deeply,  in  the  name  of  my  neighbors  and  myself,  for 
your  work  in  quieting  the  Indians  the  day  of  your 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  65 

return  from  San  Joaquin  valley.  I  doubt  not  your 
coming  meant  more  than  many  of  us  realize." 

"I  simply  fulfilled  the  duties  of  my  position.  Noth 
ing  more." 

"Good-day,  Padre  Lusciano.  I  hope  your  good 
health  will  soon  return." 

The  Administrator  departed. 

"Shut  the  door,  Juan.  I  feel  I  may  sleep.  Go  forth 
to  your  duties.  When  I  awake  I  will  call  you.  Go, 
now,  while  sleep  is  heavy  on  my  eyelids." 

Juan  Antonio  went  to  the  door.  Hesitating  a  moment 
he  turned,  with :  "Reverend  father,  shall  I  not  prepare 
a  draught  of  the  bark  which  Seftor  Mendoza  left  for 
you?" 

"Go  forth  to  your  duties,  man.  I  can  accept  no  gift 
from  Senor  Mendoza  if  the  acceptance  implies  acknowl 
edgment  of  his  administratorship.  I  will  return  him  his 
Jesuit  bark.  The  call  of  principle  is  higher  than  the 
claim  of  bodily  health." 

The  major-domo  closed  the  door.  Sleep  came  to  the 
friar. 

The  Mission  buildings  were  constructed  in  accord 
ance  with  the  architecture  in  vogue  in  California  at  that 
time.  Buildings  formed  three  sides  of  an  inclosure,  a 
courtyard  gate  and  wall  the  fourth.  On  one  side  were 
housed  the  unmarried  Indian  women.  Across  the  deep 
courtyard  lived  the  single  men.  The  third  row  of 
structures  gave  home  to  the  major-domo,  the  chief 
vaquero,  or  herdsman,  and  the  families  of  each.  Under 
the  same  roof  with  these  latter  were  the  shops  of  the 
carpenters,  the  blacksmiths,  and  the  various  other  ar- 


66      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

tisans  of  the  Mission.  This  side  of  the  square  opened 
into  the  freedom  of  the  courtyard. 

A  man  came  to  the  carpenter  shop  and  stepped 
within.  "Is  the  padre  here?"  he  inquired. 

The  master  carpenter  replied,  "Our  padre  is  ill." 

"I  have  most  important  letters  which  should  be  de 
livered  to  him  in  person." 

"Go  then,  to  the  major-domo." 

The  newcomer  walked  toward  Juan  Antonio.  In  his 
dress  the  man  was  the  ordinary  traveler  of  the  day. 
Tanned-skin  shirt  and  trousers,  shaggy  leggings  and 
wide  hat,  distinguished  him  in  no  manner  from  a  dozen 
other  wayfarers  who,,  between  dawn  and  night,  might 
come  on  some  quest  to  the  Mission. 

The  deep-set,  gleaming  eyes  of  the  old  Indian  sur 
veyed  him  from  foot  to  crown.  He  saw  a  man  in  the 
prime  of  life,  his  face  parched  by  tropical  sun  to  the 
color  of  leather.  A  military  mustache  was  on  his  lip. 

"You  wish  to  see  me?"  asked  Juan  Antonio. 

"I  wish  to  see  Padre  Lusciano.  I  have  letters  intro 
ducing  me  to  him." 

"The  padre  is  firmly  held  by  fever-and-ague.  Little 
strength  is  left  to  him.  If  you  will,  I'll  carry  your 
letters  to  him.  I'm  going  to  see  him  now.  You  rest, 
while  I'm  gone,  in  the  porter's  lodge;  or,  if  you  like, 
go  over  to  Senor  Mendoza's  property  across  the  way." 

"Thanks,  many.  I'll  wait  in  the  lodge.  Here  are  the 
letters." 

The  major-domo  disappeared  into  the  padre's  quar 
ters.  Soon  he  was  again  at  the  stranger's  side. 

"Padre  Lusciano  says  come." 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  67 

He  followed  the  Indian  through  alcove  and  corridor 
to  the  friar's  bedroom. 

"Your  name  is  Captain  Farquharson,  I  learn.  Juan 
Antonio,  a  chair  for  this  brother.  Seat  yourself,  good 
sir.  Now,"  to  the  Indian,  "close  the  door  and  stay  not 
far  away.  I'll  call  you  when  I  want  you." 

They  were  a  short  time  in  earnest  conversation. 

The  stranger  opened  the  door  to  leave. 

"Antonio,"  called  the  padre.  The  Indian  came 
quickly.  "Conduct  my  visitor  outside,  then  return." 

Major-domo  and  caller  passed  through  the  court 
yard. 

"Amar  Dios !"  the  Indian  said  at  parting. 

"Many  thanks  for  your  attention,"  from  the  other. 

Juan  Antonio  returned  to  the  friar's  room. 

"Take  these  letters  and  lock  them  in  my  desk  there. 
Bring  me  the  key.  Good.  Now,  attend  carefully  to 
what  I  say." 

"Yes,  Senor  Padre." 

"Tell  no  one  the  name  of  the  man  whom  you  have 
just  escorted  out." 

"It  shall  be  as  you  say,  Reverend  Padre." 

"It  is  well.  The  giant,  ambition,  stirs  in  his  sleep. 
Soon  he  awakes  and  moves  to  action."  Then,  in  half 
aside:  "Mexico  has  wrought  the  undoing  of  our  mis 
sions.  If  a  chance  of  retrieval  comes  why  should  I  not 
— but  Misericordia !" 

A  great  cheering  was  heard  in  the  courtyard. 

"Go,  see  the  cause,  and  come  and  tell  me,  Antonio." 

"Glorious  news  !"  the  Indian  hastening  back.  "Pedro 
Carrasca  returns  from  Monterey  two  hours  before  the 


68      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

time,  and  has  an  abundance  of  Jesuit  bark  in  his  saddle 
bags.  More  yet,  good  padre.  A  messenger  from  Dario. 
He  is  the  third  messenger  sent — Yoscolo  and  Stanislaus 
must  have  captured  the  others.  Dario  has  driven  our 
herds  far  into  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquin  River; 
and,  the  man  says,  soon  will  they  fat  for  the  matanza" 
(the  killing). 

"'Tis  well,  Juan.  Bring  me  a  portion  of  the  bark, 
then  I'll  rest  a  little.  In  the  chapel  to-night  pray  fer 
vently  for  rain,  and  thank  God  for  his  mercies ;  and  ask 
him  to  avert  war  and  bloodshed  from  our  province 
here,  and  from  the  whole  world.  Shut  the  door  now. 
Carry  my  blessing  to  the  children  when  they  are  assem 
bled  for  evening  prayer." 

The  door  closed  and  the  major-domo  went  about  his 
many  tasks. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE   MERIENDA 

"J^AUGHTER  mine,  awake!  'Tis  the  day  of  the 
JL-J  merienda." 

"I'm  up,  little  papa." 

A  rasp  of  file  on  flint  was  heard  as  she  struck  a  light. 

"Ugh-oo-oo !  the  water's  cold." 

The  old  don*  laughed.  "Cold  water  drives  the  sands 
of  sleep  from  the  eyelids,  child." 

He  walked  along  the  corridor  to  his  sitting  room. 
The  large  time-piece  showed  four  o'clock  and  three 
minutes.  Five  minutes  later  his  daughter  joined  him, 
clad  in  tanned-skin  blouse  and  skirt,  with  a  straw  som 
brero  on  her  head. 

"Here  I  am,  papacito.     Is  breakfast  ready?" 

"Breakfast  waits,  but  the  coming  of  the  morning 
waits  not." 

The  peons  served  them  by  candlelight. 

Soon  they  were  ready  for  the  start. 

Before  the  courtyard  gate  were  the  dona's  carreta, 
the  senor's  horse,  and  a  squad  of  mounted  fighting 
peons.  Servants  placed  soft  tule  grass  in  the  carreta, 
lambwool  comforters,  for  greater  ease  in  riding. 

In  double  file  marched  the  mounted  peon  soldiers,  the 
carreta  between,  while  the  lord  of  the  hacienda  rode  by 

69 


70      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

his  daughter's  side.  Thus  they  reached  the  plaza  of  the 
village  near  the  Mission  San  Jose. 

The  place  was  alive  with  carretas  bearing  mothers, 
duenas,  and  daughters,  with  caballeros,  with  bustling 
peons  and  early-risen  Indian  children. 

Lanterns  were  strung  around  the  square,  in  the  mid 
dle  of  which  blazed  a  big  bonfire.  The  caballeros 
capered  their  horses  before  the  carretas.  The  senoritas 
applauded  by  "Brava !  Brava !"  or  shrieked  at  some 
unusually  daring  equestrian  feat. 

Captain  Moranda  was  early  at  the  plaza.  Many  a 
senorita  turned  her  glance  from  adventurous  youth  and 
cavorting  horse  to  the  soldier  in  trig  uniform,  whose 
steed  was  frequently  by  the  side  of  Dona  Carmelita's 
carreta. 

Preparations  were  now  under  way  for  the  setting- 
out.  Each  carreta  now  had  four  horses,  tandem,  a 
postilion  mounting  the  wheel  animal  of  each  team. 

"Sunlight  on  the  peak !"  intoned  a  peon  stationed  on 
a  rooftop. 

Senor  Mendoza,  in  charge  of  the  affair,  looked  care 
fully  over  the  carretas  arranged  longitudinally,  the 
caballeros  around  them,  and  the  fighting  peons  armed 
with  carbine  and  saber.  "Adelante !"  he  shouted  and 
galloped  away  at  the  head  of  the  cavalcade. 

The  carretas  surged  forward.  At  the  end  of  an  hour, 
half  way  up  the  mountain,  Mendoza  gave  a  command 
to  halt. 

The  eastern  sky  was  rosy.  The  morning  star  still 
shone  undimmed  though  all  others  had  retired.  The 
canon  facing  the  procession  was  hidden  in  purple  twi- 


THE  MERIENDA  71 

light,  while  the  mountain  peak  blazed  like  some  glory 
throne.  The  joyful  men  and  women  became  silent 
before  the  majesty. 

In  the  valley  the  light  was  chasing  the  shadows  up 
the  hills.  These  shadows  were  flying  to  the  picnickers 
as  if  for  protection,  when,  lo !  the  sun  was  on  the  eastern 
horizon. 

Mendoza  signaled  Captain  Morando,  who  chanted  the 
opening  line  of  Saint  Francis  of  Assisi's  "Canticle  to 
the  Sun." 

Tongue  after  tongue  caught  up  the  words.  The 
Indians,  who  had  been  taught  singing  and  knew  well 
the  music  of  the  church,  united  with  the  others,  and 
the  swell  of  five  hundred  voices  rolled  over  valley  and 
hill. 

"O,  most  high,  Almighty,  good  Lord,  to  thee  belong 
the  praise,  honor,  and  all  blessings : 

"Praised  be  our  Lord,  for  our  brother  the  wind,  and 
for  air  and  cloud,  calms  and  all  weather,  by  the  which 
thou  upholdest  in  life  all  creatures. 

"Praised  be  my  .Lord  for  our  sister  water,  who  is 
very  serviceable  unto  us,  and  humble,  and  precious, 
and  clean. 

"Praised  be  my  Lord  for  our  brother  fire,  through 
whom  thou  givest  us  light  in  the  darkness ;  and  he  is 
bright,  and  pleasant,  and  very  mighty  and  strong. 

"Praised  be  my  Lord  for  our  mother  the  earth,  the 
which  doth  sustain  us  and  keep  us,  and  bringeth  forth 
divers  fruits  and  flowers  of  many  colors,  and  grass." 

"Adelante!"  again  called  Mendoza,  and  once  more 
they  were  off.  The  odor  of  pine  reached  them  at  one 


72      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

height ;  at  another  the  resinous  redwood,  in  mammoth 
groves,  pointed  skyward.  The  senoritas  and  caballeros 
talked,  laughed,  sang,  and  perhaps  mildly  flirted. 

At  ten  o'clock  they  reached  the  entrance  to  the 
canon  which  marked  the  beginning  of  Calaveras  Valley. 
Vast "  tangles  of  blackberry  bushes  were  everywhere, 
creeping  up  the  canon  side,  festooning  projecting  rocks, 
climbing  trees,  ivylike,  and  dropping  their  branches 
dark  with  ripening  fruit.  Tinkling  rills  ran  along,  un 
affected  by  the  drought.  Colonies  of  birds  floated  in 
the  air,  sang  in  the  trees,  or,  fluttering  around  the 
vines,  ate  their  fill. 

From  time  immemorial  these  grounds  had  been  care 
fully  guarded  from  everyone  till  the  merienda  day  at 
close  of  spring,  on  which  occasion  the  first  fruits  were 
gathered  by  the  land  barons  and  their  select  company, 
with  feasting,  dancing,  and  merrymaking. 

After  that  day  all  embargo  was  removed,  and  the 
products  of  the  valley  were  free  to  all. 

According  to  custom  the  senorita  whose  carriage 
first  reached  the  merienda  ground  was  queen  of  the  day, 
and  an  early-California  chariot  race  occurred  yearly 
here. 

Down  the  inclined  way  the  carretas  went,  toward  the 
bottom  of  the  valley  where  the  choicest  berries  grew. 

Mendoza  wheeled  his  horse  and  gave  the  command 
to  stop.  "We  rest  a  few  minutes.  Then,  let  the  car 
retas  which  compete  in  the  race  range  themselves  as 
will  be  directed,  and  start  at  the  word." 

Pedro  Zelaya  and  Fulgencio  Higuera  were  appointed 
judges. 


THE  MERIENDA  73 

Carreta  after  carrcta  drew  forward.  Soon  a  score 
or  more  were  side  by  side,  to  enter  the  contest. 

The  judges  were  busy  moving  one  team  forward, 
another  back.  When  all  were  at  equal  advantage  the 
stalwart  Higuera  called: 

"Make  ready !    Run  1" 

Away  they  went,  the  caballeros  fringing  the  sides,  the 
other  carretas  trailing  in  the  rear.  Weeks  of  patient 
labor  of  the  peons  had  made  the  course  even  and  smooth. 

"Now!  Now!"  cried  Hernandez.  "I'll  show  Men- 
doza  my  Mexican  imported  horseflesh  is  superior  to  his 
Californians.  Boy,"  to  the  postilion,  "taut  with  the 
reins,  and  ready  with  the  whip !" 

"Hoop-la !  Hoop-la !"  the  drivers  shouted  to  their 
straining  teams,  the  long  whiplashes  curling  from  their 
hands  and  touching  the  splendid  animals  in  stinging 
crack,  while  the  caballeros  admonished  or  encouraged. 

"The  spur  on  the  wheeler,  Miguel !  The  lash  on  that 
leader!"  or,  "Grande!  Grande!  Martino.  Another 
such  spurt  and  you  win !" 

Lolita  Hernandez,  Alfreda  Castro  and  Carmelita 
Mendoza  were  ahead.  For  a  minute  the  three  carretas 
ran  neck  and  neck. 

Marcel  Hernandez,  father  of  Lolita,  rt)de  by  her 
team.  In  the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment  he  urged  the 
horses  with  his  riding- whip  and  joined  with  the  postil 
ions  in  shouting,  "Hoop-la !  Hoop-la !" 

Patricio  Martinez,  Alfreda's  long-time  cavalier,  hov 
ered  near  her,  shouting :  "Now's  your  chance,  Diego ! 
Stir  up  that  pinto !  Ease  the  bit  on  that  sorrel !  Go 
it,  my  beauties !" 


74      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  Dona  Carmelita's  peon  had  a  cool  head,  driving 
so  as  to  draw  from  the  other  racers  their  best  speed. 
Little  by  little  he  lessened  the  swif tnes  of  his  own  horses, 
allowing  the  others  to  forge  ahead. 

The  Hernandez  Mexicans  and  the  Castro  Andalu- 
sians  held  their  own,  side  by  side,  as  if  in  double  har 
ness.  For  more  than  a  hundred  paces  it  seemed  neither 
one  gained  nor  lost  a  hairbreadth.  Suddenly  the  Castro 
animals  winded.  High-stepping  and  proud,  they  grad 
ually  lost.  Magnificent  in  their  defeat  they  fell  back. 

"Huzza!  Huzza!"  yelled  Hernandez.  "I  knew  I 
breed  the  best  stock  in  the  valley.  My  daughter  shall 
be  queen  of  the  fiesta." 

Then  Carmelita's  peon  gave  rein  to  his  horses.  They 
sprang  from  the  ground  and  rushed  onward.  For  an 
instant  the  two  carretas  ran  together,  each  splendid 
horse,  straight-backed,  ears  low,  nostrils  distended, 
striking  his  feet  in  unison  with  his  fellows.  Soon  the 
Hernandez  team  began  to  slip  backward  foot  by  foot. 

"Diablo!  Diablo!"  thundered  Hernandez.  "Peon, 
urge  your  horses  !  Use  the  whip !" 

The  Hernandez  Indian  dug  his  spurs  into  his  mount, 
and  cruelly  flayed  the  leaders. 

The  other  carreta  yet  more  quickly  moved  ahead. 
Already  the  Mendoza  wheeler  was  abreast  the  Hernan 
dez  leader. 

Above  the  roar  of  the  vehicles  sounded  the  plaudits 
of  the  caballeros. 

"Viva !  Viva,  Mendoza !  Viva  the  California  horses  ! 
Viva  the  Senorita  Mendoza!" 

A  stone  the  size  of  a  walnut  caught  in  the  hind  shoe 


THE  MERIENDA  75 

of  Mendoza's  wheeler.  The  steady  pace  of  his  horses 
broke. 

The  Hernandez  animals  pressed  on. 

"Swing  out,  boy,  swing  out!  Sweep  in  from  the 
side!"  exulted  Hernandez.  "Victory  for  the  Mexican 
horses !" 

The  driver  turned  his  team.  "Bueno,  boy,  bueno! 
Now  straight  ahead !  Loose  the  rein !  Let  'em  go !" 

The  Mendoza  postilion  bent  affectionately  over  his 
horse.  "Fly,  Mercurio !  Fly !  for  the  dona's  sake !" 

He  unstrung  his  whiplash.  It  burned  the  leaders  with 
living  fire.  They  leaped  forward,  the  tremendous  stride 
flinging  the  pebbles  from  the  wheeler's  hoof. 

Along  the  roadway  the  horses  sped,  lessening  the 
Hernandez  advantage  at  every  bound.  After  them 
poured  the  yelling,  gesticulating  crowd. 

A  hundred  paces  only  remained. 

The  shouting  ceased,  the  tenseness  of  the  moment 
closing  every  throat. 

The  Mendoza  carreta  overtook  the  other,  passed  it, 
and  reached  the  goal  two  lengths  ahead.  Carmelita 
was  the  queen  of  the  day ! 

With  a  flourish  the  Dona  Carmelita's  postilion  drew 
up  before  the  pavilion  at  the  merienda  ground,  Mendoza 
and  Captain  Morando  assisting  the  breathless,  excited 
girl  to  alight. 

Caballero  and  -carreta  whirled  into  the  open  space 
around  her. 

"Hail!  Hail,  to  the  queen  of  the  merienda!"  arose 
on  all  sides.  She  bowed  right  and  left  in  acknowledg 
ment. 


76      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

On  one  side  of  the  building  stood  a  dais  whence  the 
queen  ruled  her  loyal  subjects. 

"Come,  little  one,"  her  father  said.  "Your  ladies 
of  honor  will  accompany  you  to  your  throne." 

Lolita  and  Alfreda  walked  with  her  to  the  dais,  then 
curtsied  in  deference. 

"Your  wishes,  queen  of  the  merienda?"  they  asked. 

"For  one  hour  let  matron,  maid,  and  man  gather 
blackberries  for  the  feast.  Then  all  shall  come  to 
luncheon  in  the  pavilion,  not  forgetting  to  bring  the 
fruits  of  their  labor.  For  the  afternoon  my  command 
is  that  all  enjoy  themselves  to  the  full." 

Thus  briefly  spoke  the  ruler  of  the  day ;  after  which 
she  took  her  willow  basket  and  hastened  to  gather  ber 
ries,  as  did  her  maids  of  honor  and  everyone  else. 

The  appointed  time  saw  all  assembled  near  the  feast 
tables  which  had  been  made  readj7  by  the  peons.  Heap 
ing  dishes  of  berries  were  conspicuous  among  a  variety 
and  abundance  of  viands. 

Colonel  Barcelo,  commander  of  the  presidio  at 
Monterey,  with  his  wife  and  her  younger  sister,  the 
Senora  Valentino,  rode  up  on  horseback. 

The  Colonel  and  his  wife  were  well  known  to  the 
picnickers.  His  sister-in-law  had  but  lately  arrived 
from  Madrid. 

The  newcomers  were  accorded  a  gracious  reception. 

"Happened  to  be  visiting  near  San  Jose.  Hearing 
of  the  merienda,  we  came  along  without  an  invitation," 
said  Barcelo,  laughing.  "Besides,  I  wished  Senora 
Valentino  to  witness  one  of  our  festal  days.  It  is 
unique.  Madrid  itself  holds  nothing  to  equal  it." 


THE  MERIENDA  77 

The  brown  eyes  of  the  lady  from  Madrid  flashed  in 
accompaniment  to  her  pearly  teeth.  "Rare  things  have 
I  seen  in  California  in  the  fortnight  I  am  here." 

"In  a  moment  luncheon  is  served.  My  worthy  Bar- 
celo,  I  invite  you  and  your  party  to  our  table.  My 
daughter  and  a  few  others  sit  with  us.  Come,  friends," 
spoke  Sefior  Mendoza,  true  to  the  unbounded  hospitality 
of  the  California  grandee. 

A  peon  sounded  a  gong.  The  hungry  merienda  folk 
lost  little  time  in  coming  to  the  meal. 

Sefior  Mendoza  was  at  the  head  of  his  table,  Dona 
Carmelita  at  the  foot.  At  the  host's  right  and  left 
were  seated  Colonel  Barcelo  and  his  wife ;  Senora  Valen 
tino,  by  his  sister.  The  ladies  of  honor,  with  Hernan 
dez,  who  sat  by  his  daughter,  filled  the  other  places, 
except  one.  This  had  been  reserved  for  Morando,  who 
now  came  up. 

"An  accident  to  one  of  the  horsemen  detained  me  for 
the  past  half  hour,"  was  his  explanation  to  Sefior  Men 
doza. 

"A  caballero's  misfortune  always  calls  for  assistance 
from  a  brother,"  replied  Mendoza.  Continuing:  "Cap 
tain  Morando,  I  wish  to  introduce  you  to  Senora 
Valentino,  who  favors  us  to-day  by  her  presence  with 
her  relatives,  the  Barcelos.  Senora  Valentino,  may  I 
present  Captain  Moranda?" 

The  senora  acknowledged  pleasantly  the  Captain's 
low  bow. 

"Captain,  to  your  chair,"  from  Mendoza. 

Conversation  lulled  for  a  little.  Early  hours  and 
open  air  had  given  zest  to  the  appetite. 


78      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"My  dear  Senora  Valentino,  I  wish  you  could  have 
seen  our  carreta  race  this  morning,"  remarked  Seiior 
Mendoza.  "But  it  will  not  be  the  last." 

"While  I  say  nothing  against  the  race  of  this  morn 
ing  as  such,"  interposed  Hernandez,  "for  it  was  good 
enough  as  far  as  it  went,  I  do  claim  that  my  horses 
were  better  than  yours,  Mendoza.  Your  peon  rider 
happened  to  be  more  at  home  in  his  business  than  was 
mine,  nothing  more.  I  wish  I  had  been  in  that  postil 
ion's  place  myself ;  then  there  would  have  been  a  differ 
ent  story  to  tell." 

"A  horse  can  display  but  the  swiftness  his  limbs  pos 
sess,"  rebutted  Mendoza. 

"Riding  is  not  what  I  knew  in  my  youth,"  commented 
Hernandez,  who  was  giving  ample  appreciation  to  the 
pleasures  of  the  table. 

"Captain  Morando,  were  you  not  at  a  ball  given  in 
Madrid  last  year  by  the  officers  of  General  Guerrero's 
division  in  their  quarters  ?"  said  Senora  Valentino. 

"I  was,  indeed.  And  now,  seiiora,  I  remember  you 
well.  Strange  I  did  not  recall  you  at  first." 

"The  fact  that  I  was  in  ball-dress  then  and  in  riding- 
habit  now  is,  undoubtedly,  what  prevented  you  from 
recognizing  me  before." 

"Why,  we  have  old  friends  here!"  interjected  Colonel 
Barcelo. 

"How  is  Colonel  Valentino,  your  husband?" 

"Shortly  after  that  ball  of  which  we  speak  my  hus 
band  was  ordered  to  service  in  Morocco,  and  there  he 
laid  down  his  life  for  his  country." 

"I  regret  that  my  question  called  up  sad  memories. 


THE  MERIENDA  79 

Nearly  a  year  have  I  been  away  from  Madrid,  and 
news  travels  slowly  to  us  here.  I  offer  to  you  my 
sympathy  in  your  great  loss." 

"You  are  very  kind,  Lieutenant — I  should  say,  'Cap 
tain'  Morando.  But — what  is  past  is  gone.  It  is  well, 
then,  to  forget.  A  wonderful  life  these  Californians 
live!" 

"I  trust  Colonel  Barcelo  and  his  lady  will  find  op 
portunity  while  in  this  vicinity  to  bring  you,  sefiora, 
to  visit  us  at  our  home  in  Mission  San  Jose.  What 
says  my  daughter?" 

The  Dona  Carmelita  cordially  seconded  her  father's 
invitation.  The  Barcelos  accepted;  the  Senora  Valen 
tino  likewise. 

"Mission  San  Jose — Mission  San  Jose — "  mused 
the  latter.  "Is  there  not  living  there  a  Franciscan  friar, 
one  Lusciano  Osuna?" 

"It  is  so,"  assented  Mendoza. 

"I  heard  he  was  in  California,  and  as  you  mentioned 
the  Mission  San  Jose  it  came  to  me  that  was  given  as 
his  present  home." 

"A  man  of  some  importance,  probably,  in  Spain," 
volunteered  Senor  Hernandez. 

"I  do  not  know  him  personally,"  replied  Senora 
Valentino.  "In  the  cathedral  of  Barcelona  I  heard  him 
give  the  Lenten  sermons  several  years  ago.  It  was 
quite  shortly  after  his  ordination,  but  his  discourses 
possessed  rare  charm  and  power.  The  city  was  literally 
at  his  feet." 

"Strange  such  a  man  comes  here  as  a  mission  padre?" 
observed  Hernandez. 


80      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"It  was  his  request.  Some  unknown  powerful  in 
fluence  seconded  him,  else  Spain  would  not  have  lost  her 
great  preacher." 

At  that  moment  the  strains  of  the  grand  march 
floated  through  the  pavilion,  from  the  excellent  orches 
tra  provided  for  the  dancing. 

Captain  Morando  was  quickly  at  Dona  Carmelita's 
side.  "Senorita  the  Dona  Mendoza,  may  I  claim  your 
favor  for  the  grand  march  and  the  waltz  following?" 

It  was  granted. 

Carmelita  and  Morando  were  at  once  circling  in  the 
waltz. 

"I  still  have  the  rose  which  fell  to  me  from  the  sky 
one  moonlit  night  a  month  ago." 

"Does  it  keep  so  long?"  mischievously. 

"It  is  pressed  in  a  book  of  poems.  Each  couplet  of 
book-leaves  holds  a  petal.  The  odor  of  the  petals 
speaks  to  me  the  same  thought  which  is  the  sub 
ject  of  these  poems.  Shall  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Seno 
rita  Dona?" 

"Hush !  the  music  ceases.  Lead  me  to  a  resting 
place." 

There  was  to  be  no  resting  for  Senorita  Mendoza. 
Importunate  youths  claimed  dance  after  dance. 

The  elders,  men  and  women,  were  scattered  around 
in  groups,  some  looking  at  the  dancing,  others  con 
versing,  a  few  playing  cards. 

Senor  Valentino,  owing  to  her  recent  bereavement, 
did  not  dance.  She  seated  herself  on  a  rustic  bench 
beneath  a  widespread  sycamore,  where  she  was  soon 
the  center  of  an  interested  coterie.  The  lady  so  recently 


THE  MERIENDA  81 

from  Madrid  retailed  to  Spanish-born  gentry  the  news 
of  the  distant  imperial  city. 

After  a  while  Captain  Morando  came  up.  Soon  the 
two  were  in  animated  conversation. 

"Ah!  Captain,  not  on  the  floor!  Foot-weary  so 
soon?"  spoke  a  duena  who  now  joined  them. 

"No,  sefiora,  not  foot-weary.  I  forego  for  a  time 
the  pleasures  of  the  dance  that  I  may  listen  to  the 
words  of  our  beautiful  visitor  here." 

He  made  a  low  bow  to  Senora  Valentino,  who  laugh 
ingly  extended  her  hand  to  him.  He  bent  sweepingly 
over  it,  barely  touching  the  ends  of  her  fingers  with 
his. 

"The  Senor  Captain  Morando !"  a  man's  voice  called 
at  his  elbow.  It  was  Abelardo  Peralta.  The  music  and 
dancing  had  stopped.  The  guests  were  assembling 
around  the  dais  on  which  was  seated  Dona  Carmelita. 

"Our  queen  demands  your  presence,  Senor  Captain," 
Peralta  went  on. 

The  Captain  was  shortly  before  her  majesty  the 
lueen  of  the  fiesta. 

"The  games  are  about  to  begin,  Captain  Morando. 

o  you  not  remember  that  I  appointed  you  and  Don 
Jbelardo  to  define  the  boundaries  of  the  racing  course, 
ind  to  determine  the  various  goals?  Also  please  to 
imind  the  Senora  Valentino  that  she  is  requested  to 
;rown  the  victors." 

As  the  afternoon  waned  the  interest  in  the  athletic 
rents  increased.  The  footraces  for  young  men  showed 
that  the  sons  of  the  province  were  nimble  of  limb,  and 
ron  the  approbation  of  Pedro  Zelaya  himself,  whose 


82      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

swiftness  was  credited  with  being  only  less  than  a  fast- 
galloping  horse. 

The  sefioritas  ran  a  shorter  course  very  creditably. 

Then  came  a  contest  of  knife-throwing  in  which  the 
men  of  the  period  were  wonderfully  proficient.  The 
knife  was  flung,  blade  extended,  from  the  palm  of  the 
hand  with  such  force  that  the  point  of  the  weapon  would 
sink  several  inches  into  a  wooden  target  placed  twenty, 
thirty,  or  more,  paces  away. 

"Hoop-la !  Hoop-la  !"  came  through  a  cloud  of  dust. 
A  number  of  vaqueros  had  driven  a  wild  steer  from  the 
mountains  to  the  race  course.  The  picnickers  looked 
at  the  animal  from  their  safe  position  on  the  platform. 
Again  and  again  the  creature  charged  at  the  vaqueros, 
who  deftly  swung  their  horses  out  of  harm's  way. 

"Send  him  here !"  some  young  fellow  called  to  one  of 
the  herdsmen. 

"No,  no,"  another  cried,  "send  him  over  this  way  to 
me." 

The  animal  pawed  the  earth,  bellowed,  and  rushed 
around  the  race  course  in  fury. 

Don  Pedro  Zelaya  climbed  out  on  a  projecting  tree- 
branch  and  dropped  on  the  animal's  back,  in  the  midst 
of  one  of  its  mad  careenings.  It  stood  stock  still  for 
a  moment  in  bewilderment.  Zelaya's  sharp  spurs  soon 
stirred  it  into  action.  It  ran,  leaped,  even  bucked  like 
a  broncho,  in  trying  to  rid  its  back  of  the  burden,  but 
in  vain. 

"Brava  !  Brava  !  Senor  Zelaya.  Soon  will  you  have 
another  gentle  pony." 

"Let  him  chase  thee  around  the  race  course,"  yelled 


THE  MERIENDA  83 

a  youth.  "One  hundred  pesos  to  fifty  he  catches 
thee !" 

Zelaya  found  time  to  wave  his  acknowledgment  of  the 
persiflage. 

The  steer  suddenly  tried  rolling  over  and  over  to  free 
itself.  The  man  sprang  to  the  ground  each  time  it 
dashed  itself  do,wn;  then,  with  the  litheness  of  a  cat, 
leaped  to  its  back  as  it  arose. 

The  animal  finally  gave  up  all  efforts  to  throw  the 
rider,  and  ran  at  full  speed  around  the  racing  track, 
amidst  the  loud  plaudits  of  the  assembly. 

Sefior  Zelaya  drew  himself  back  into  the  branches  of 
the  tree,  after  a  little,  and  his  mount  escaped  to  the 
forest. 

The  men  exhibited  all  manner  of  fancy  riding.  Some 
rode  at  the  flank  of  a  horse  at  gallop,  or  under  the 
belly,  or  astride  the  neck.  Others  leaned  from  their 
saddles  in  flying  sweep  and  picked  up  coins  from  the 
ground;  or  drew  from  the  sand  chickens  buried  to  the 
head,  yet  so  gentle  the  rider's  hand  that  the  fowl  was 
not  in  the  least  injured. 

The  shadows  come  early  in  the  deep  canons.  The 
queen  sent  her  messengers  to  call  the  people  around  her 
throne  while  the  winners  received  their  prizes.  Abe- 
lardo  Peralta  announced,  in  her  name,  that  after  the 
distribution  luncheon  would  again  be  served  in  the  pa 
vilion. 

"Our  queen  makes  Don  Abelardo  her  chief  courtier," 
remarked  Lolita  Hernandez  in  the  hearing  of  a  number. 

"They  have  been  friends  since  childhood,  Seiiorita 
Lolita,"  returned  this  young  lady's  duefia. 


84.      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Lolita  laughed  mirthlessly.  "I  fancy  the  captain 
from  Madrid  has  offended.  Perhaps  her  majesty  saw 
him  kissing  Senora  Valentino's  hand  this  afternoon." 

"Fie!  Fie!"  from  another  duefia.  "He  touched  only 
the  tip  of  that  lady's  fingers  with  his  own.  I  saw  it 
myself." 

"Diffident  soldier!"  from  a  grave  senor.  "In  my 
youth  I  would  not  have  been  content  with  so  slight  a 
token." 

"Manuel!   Manuel!"  from  his  wife. 

"Senora  Moraga,  thy  husband  thinks  on  his  court 
ship  of  thee,"  spoke  yet  another  duena,  laughing. 

"I'm  sure  it  looked  as  if  the  Captain  kissed  the 
stranger  lady's  hand,"  Lolita  reiterated.  "I'm  sure  too 
Carmelita  saw  it,  for  we  were  dancing  in  the  same  set 
when  it  happened." 

"'Twas  but  a  lady's  favor  and  a  man's  privilege, 
little  one,"  said  Moraga ! 

"Manuel !  Manuel !"  again  from  his  wife.  "And  be 
fore  such  a  child  as  Lolita !" 

"I  know  Carmelita  favored  Captain  Morando  above 
Don  Abelardo  the  day  of  the  dinner  at  her  father's 
house.  I  saw  it,  and  so  did  all  the  girls.  I  know  she 
changed  toward  him  to-day  after  what  I — saw.  I  know 
she  did." 

Senora  Valentino  approached  the  group. 

At  almost  the  same  moment  Morando  came  up  from 
the  opposite  direction,  having  been  at  the  race  course 
collecting  from  the  judges  their  decisions  as  to  the 
victors. 

"Ah!   Captain  mine,  bearest  thou  a  word  for  beauty 


THE  MERIENDA  85 

as  well  as  for  prowess  in  athletics?"  questioned  Mo- 
raga. 

"The  queen  has  appointed  no  judge  of  beauty.  Even 
the  wisest  would  find  bewilderment  here  where  all  are 
so  fair,"  replied  the  gallant  Morando. 

"Our  Captain  is  a  diplomat,"  smiled  the  senora. 
She  bowed  to  the  gentleman  in  question ;  he  yet  lower 
to  her. 

A  messenger  advanced,  saying  with  much  ceremony: 
"Senora  Valentino,  the  queen  requests  you  to  crown 
the  winners  from  the  dais.  Captain  Morando,  you  are 
commanded  before  the  throne  there  to  read  your  re 
ports." 

The  senora  curtsied.     "My  sovereign's  will  is  mine." 

The  soldier  saluted,  but  before  he  could  make  speech 
Mendoza's  hand  was  on  his  shoulder.  "Pardon  me,, 
friends,  I  have  a  word  with  the  Captain." 

"Morando,"  said  the  old  don  when  they  were  apart, 
"you  may  not  know  the  keen  instincts  of  our  wild  ani 
mals  for  change  in  weather.  Bear  and  mountain  lion 
are  hurrying  through  the  forest  here  back  to  the  high 
mountains.  During  the  drought  they  have  been  under 
foot,  tame  as  dogs.  My  fighting  peons  brought  me 
word  of  this  sudden  activity  of  the  animals,  and  just 
now  I  observed  it  for  myself.  It  means  the  quick 
coming  of  a  storm." 

"Maldito !  is  it  sure?  Leagues  from  home  are  we  and 
scores  of  women  folk  with  us." 

"To  make  doubly  sure  I  rode  my  horse  to  the  summit 
of  a  high  bluff.  The  clouds  are  rolling  hitherward  in 
masses  black  and  angry." 


86      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"What,  think  you,  we  would  better  do  ?" 

"I'll  order  the  peons  to  bring  out  the  carretas  and 
saddle  the  horses.  'Twill  be  a  few  minutes  only.  Then 
I'll  call  for  silence  and  ask  all  to  take  conveyance  or 
mount,  speaking  of  imminent  storm  in  such  way  as  not 
to  give  unnecessary  alarm.  For  myself,  I'll  lead  my 
fighting  peons ;  let  come  next  the  carretas ;  then  marshal 
you  the  caballeros." 

As  said  so  was  it  done. 

Soon  all  was  in  readiness,  and  the  procession  was 
tearing  over  the  road  by  which  it  had  come  early  in  the 
day.  Dona  Carmelita  had  given  her  carreta  to  Senora 
Valentino,  while  she  rode  with  her  duefia.  Provision 
was  also  made  for  Senora  Barcelo,  Mendoza  declaring 
it  unsafe  for  a  woman  to  ride  horseback  under  the  cir 
cumstances. 

As  they  sped  along  darkness  overtook  them.  Inter 
mittent  lightning  darted  forked  tongues  across  the  sky, 
while  thunder  pealed  and  reverberated.  The  pent-up 
rain  of  months  poured  on  the  returning  picnickers. 
In  the  dry  creek-beds  streams  arose  even  while  they 
were  crossing. 

The  duena's  carreta  was  somewhat  slower  than  the 
others  and  thus  was  last  in  the  line.  Morando  rode  by 
Carmelita's  side. 

Suddenly  the  heavens  seemed  to  split.  Torrents  of 
water  roared  on  the  hillside,  inundated  the  roadway, 
and  poured  over  carretas  and  horsemen. 

There  had  been  a  cloud-burst. 

A  heavy  boulder  whirling  in  the  flood  was  flung 
against  Morando's  horse.  As  it  fell  caballeros  close  by 


THE  MERIENDA  87 

grasped  bridle-rein  and  stirrup-strap  and  drew  the 
animal  to  its  feet.  Panic-stricken  it  dashed  wildly  for 
ward. 

The  lightning  ceased.  The  dense  blackness  but  in 
creased  the  confusion. 

The  carretas  floundered  in  the  water.  Finally,  all 
save  one  fought  their  way  to  higher  ground.  A  pro 
jecting  tree-limb  had  struck  the  duena's  postilion.  His 
horse  slipped  beneath  him  and  turned  with-  the  tur 
bulent  current.  Man,  horses,  carreta,  and  occupants 
were  washed  down  the  declivity. 

The  caballeros,  unknowing,  struggled  on. 

The  duena's  horses  soon  found  footing  on  the  hill 
side,  and  taking  the  bits  in  their  teeth  ran  headlong 
down  grade  into  the  deep  canon. 

When  Carmelita  recovered  consciousness  she  was 
lying  in  a  cave,  on  some  bear  skins,  near  a  glowing  fire 
of  logs.  She  could  hear  horses  stamping  and  eating. 
Her  duena,  still  unconscious,  was  on  another  pile  of  skins. 

A  man  came  from  the  darkness  and  stood  by  her. 
He  was  dressed  in  tanned-skin  shirt  and  trousers,  and 
in  his  hand  he  held  a  sombrero.  The  mustached  face 
was  burned  brown  in  the  sun. 

He  noticed  that  Carmelita  had  opened  her  eyes. 
"Neither  of  you  is  seriously  injured.  I  am  physician 
enough  to  determine  that.  Rest  here  quietly  till  morn 
ing,  and  doubtless  your  friends  will  come.  I'll  have 
some  one  prepare  you  a  hot  drink  now."  This  he  spoke 
in  Spanish.  Then  in  English,  as  he  turned  away: 
"Queerest  product  of  a  spring  freshet  I  ever  saw!" 

He  chuckled  at  his  own  conceit. 


CHAPTER  VII 
A  NIGHT  SPENT  IN  A  CAVE 

drink  is  ready.     Will  I  bring  it  to  the  ladies 
now,  Cap'?" 

These  words  awakened  Dona  Carmelita  from  a  sound 
sleep  into  which  she  had  fallen  despite  the  discomfiture 
of  rain-soaked  clothes.  The  fire  was  burning  brightly, 
and  she  found  herself  nearer  the  blaze  whither  some 
one,  without  awakening  her,  had  drawn  the  pile  of  skins 
on  which  she  was  lying.  The  warmth  had  nearly  dried 
her  clothing. 

The  dueiia  had  recovered  from  her  swooning,  and  was 
partially  sitting  up  endeavoring  to  collect  her  senses. 

"The  drink  is  ready,  Cap'.  Will  you  ask  the  ladies 
if  they  want  it?  I  don't  know  a  word  of  their  lingo." 

The  man  touched  his  hat  in  military  style.  The  one 
denominated  "Cap'  "  came  up,  he  who  had  spoken  to 
Carmelita  a  little  previously. 

"My  man  here  has  prepared  some  strong  black  coffee 
for  you.  An  allowance  of  the  native  spirit  you  call 
'aguardiente'  has  been  added.  I  advise  you  both  to 
drink  freely  of  the  mixture.  Blankets  will  be  provided 
you,  and  you  will  sleep  here  safe  and  warm  till  morn 
ing.  Will  you  have  the  beverage  now?  I  trust  you  feel 
not  greatly  any  effect  of  the  unusual  experience  which 
must  have  been  yours." 

88 


A  NIGHT  SPENT  IN  A  CAVE  8£ 

"O !"  moaned  the  duefia,  now  coming  somewhat  more 
to  herself.  "What  a  terrible  happening!  I  expected 
each  instant  to  be  killed.  O!  where  am  I?" 

The  man  laughed.  "I  cannot  discuss  what  occurred 
to  you  before  we  found  you  outside  this  cave.  Neither 
can  I  tell  you  where  you  are,  for  I  know  only  in  a  vague 
way  the  location  of  the  place.  Let  it  suffice  that  you 
are  safe  here.  Now,  warm  yourself  with  this  drink  and 
seek  to  sleep.  The  morning  brings,  doubtless,  searchers 
for  you." 

The  man  who  seemed  the  leader  had  been  speaking  in 
Spanish.  A  trace  of  foreign  accent  was  in  each  word, 
though  he  spoke  the  language  fluently  and  correctly. 

The  other  man  broke  in  with: 

"Coffee's  cooling  fast,  Cap'.  If  they  don't  take  it 
now,  I'll  have  to  heat  it  up  again  all  over.  Kiyi  that 
to  'em  in  their  own  lingo.  Wish  I  knew  how  to." 

He  had  been  standing  holding  in  one  hand  a  steaming 
saucepan,  in  the  other  an  improvised  wooden  tray  on 
which  were  two  metal  goblets. 

The  Senorita  Carmelita  struggled  with  some  difficulty 
to  a  sitting  position. 

"We  thank  you  for  your  thoughtfumess,"  she  said. 

"The  young  lady  says  she  won't  have  the  mess — is 
that  it,  Cap'?"  asked  the  man  holding  the  saucepan 
and  goblets. 

Carmelita  was  about  to  reply  in  English,  but  the 
leader  said,  quickly:  "Give  them  your  preparation 
there,  Brown.  Don't  be  slow.  They  should  have  had 
it  drunk  by  this  time." 

Brown  complied  with  the  order. 


90      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  woman  and  the  girl  sipped  the  steaming  liquid. 

"Now  I  remember,"  said  the  duena.  "We  left  the 
road  just  after  that  awful  thunder  clap.  The  water 
washed  us  down  and  down.  Then  my  horses  ran  and  ran, 
downhill,  over  rocks  and  gullies — O  it  was  awful !" 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands.  "Then  came  the 
crash;  and  I  really  knew  no  more  until  this  moment. 
Thank  you,  sirs,  for  this,"  sipping  the  black  coffee. 
"It  shall  be  no  loss,  and  I  will  see  you  have  ample  re 
ward.  Besides,  this  senorita  here " 

"Is  the  old  lady  saying  she  wants  another  swig?" 
interrupted  the  man  holding  the  saucepan.  "Because 
if  she's  still  thirsty,  there's  more  of  this  coffee  and 
aggydenty  right  here,"  shaking  the  contents  of  the 
vessel,  "and  if  this  ain't  plenty  I  can  manyfactur 
more." 

"Hush,  Brown !"  spoke  the  other.  "If  you  have  any 
thing  more  to  do  I'll  tell  you." 

"Just  as  you  say,"  agreed  the  other,  unperturbed. 

"The  crash  you  tell  of  brought  my  man  here  and 
myself  out  to  where  the  accident  met  you.  Your  vehicle 
had  struck  a  huge  rock  which  forms  one  side  of  this 
cave.  Needless  to  say  the  carriage  was  in  kindling 
wood.  You,"  to  the  duena,  "and  the  young  lady  had 
been  thrown  entirely  free  from  the  melee  into  a  thick 
bed  of  dried  leaves — or  leaves  that  had  been  dry  before 
the  rain,"  this  with  a  smile.  "Your  horses  were  floun 
dering  in  the  mud." 

"O,  my  brave,  beautiful  horses !"  exclaimed  the  duena. 
"Where  are  they?  O,  where  are  they?" 

"Safe  here  with  my  own  horses  and  quietly  eating 


A  NIGHT  SPENT  IN  A  CAVE  91 

fodder  as  if  nothing  had  occurred.  Your  Indian  driver 
came  off  with  a  broken  shoulder.  He  sleeps  now 
farther  along  in  the  cave.  I  fancy  the  plentiful  supply 
of  aguardiente  my  man  Brown  gave  him  aided  in  pro 
ducing  his  slumbers.  However,  I  knew  no  other  way 
to  ease  him." 

"Ah,  that  Luis!"  said  the  duena.  "I'll  have  him 
whipped  when  he  recovers  for  thus  endangering  us  both 
with  his  careless  driving.  My  regular  driver  is  away 
in  the  eastern  grass  ranges." 

"Anything  more  I  can  do?"  asked  Brown.  "I  hear 
my  name  spoke  of." 

"Nothing  more.  I  was  telling  the  ladies  you  aided 
their  injured  servant  to  sleep  by  a  free  supply  of  spirits. 
You  may  go  now." 

"Just  as  you  say,  Cap'.  Said  nigger  servant  of  the 
lady  is  a  regler  canal  when  it  comes  to  aggydenty," 
commented  Brown  as  he  betook  himself  and  saucepan 
away. 

Carmelita  and  the  duena  finished  drinking  the  con 
tents  of  the  goblets.  The  man  Brown  soon  came  back 
with  two  pairs  of  woolen  blankets. 

"These  blankets  are  finest  English  wool.  Wrap  up 
in  'em  and  you'll  find  yourselves  warm  and  dry  by 
morning.  Tell  'em,  Cap,'  in  their  own  talk." 

"Brown,  you  may  retire  now  to  the  inner  cave  and 
sleep." 

"Just  as  you  say,  Cap'." 

"I  trust  you  will  be  as  comfortable  as  the  situation 
permits.  Allow  me  to  wish  you  pleasant  dreams  and 
the  hope  that  to-morrow  will  find  you  both  none  the 


92      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

worse  for  this  mishap.  Good-night."  The  Captain 
bowed. 

Soon  the  Captain  was  gone  and  the  duefia  and  the 
girl  were  closely  wrapped  in  the  warm  blankets.  The 
fire  still  burned  high  and  diffused  a  grateful  heat. 
A  feeling  of  repose  crept  over  both  the  women.  The 
storm  howled  and  raged  outside,  but  in  their  wearied 
state  it  was  scarce  less  than  a  lullaby  to  them.  Numb 
ness  came  to  their  senses.  They  slept  in  the  wild  cave, 
safe  from  deluge  and  accident. 

How  long  the  Dona  Carmelita  had  been  sleeping  she 
knew  not.  She  opened  her  eyes.  The  fire  had  burned 
low.  The  light  of  the  embers  was  struggling  with  the 
darkness.  Rain  and  wind  still  held  high  revel  on  the 
outside.  The  water  swished  and  the  tempest  boomed 
at  the  entrance  of  the  cave. 

Again  she  was  sinking  to  slumber. 

Suddenly  she  roused.  Footsteps  were  near — unusual 
footsteps,  soft  as  air.  The  fire  was  lower;  the  embers 
cooling ;  darkness  lay  more  completely  over  all.  Nearer 
the  sound  came.  Every  nerve  was  tense.  The  fire  gave 
a  feeble  flicker.  By  the  wall  of  the  cave  two  figures 
stood  not  half  a  dozen  paces  from  her.  They  disap 
peared  suddenly.  She  breathed  more  freely.  Another 
flicker  from  the  fire  and  she  saw  that  they  were 
crouched  low  by  the  ground  and  apparently  in  conver 
sation.  A  draft  hurtled  through  the  cavern  and  gave 
life  to  the  dying  coals.  The  two  figures  cast  themselves 
flat  on  the  ground.  The  embers  died  down.  Carmelita 
waited  in  trepidation. 

Another  rift  of  light  in  answer  to  a  current  of  air. 


A  NIGHT  SPENT  IN  A  CAVE  93 

One  of  the  prostrate  figures  was  slowly  moving  toward 
her,  as  a  fish  floats  through  water  without  apparent 
movement  or  propulsion.  Never  it  hastened,  yet  never 
it  ceased  to  come,  always  nearer,  without  effort,  with 
out  pausing. 

She  shut  her  teeth  and  clenched  her  hands.  There 
was  a  wild  desire  to  scream,  to  call  for  help,  to  fly 
out  into  the  open.  She  did  none  of  these  things. 
The  courage  of  her  warrior  forbears  stood  her  in 
stead. 

All  at  once  the  body  ceased  its  forward  motion. 
Then  it  moved  backward,  noiselessly,  slowly.  It  seemed 
an  age  until  it  reached  the  other  figure  by  the  wall. 
The  overflow  of  the  hurricane  which  now  came  sweeping 
through  the  place  invigorated  the  fire  so  that  it  showed 
the  two  figures  standing  flush  against  the  wall  and 
again  in  earnest  consultation.  She  could  tell  that  they 
were  Indians,  not  by  their  dress,  for  that  was  indistinct, 
but  by  their  postures  and  gestures.  Suddenly  they 
were  prone  on  the  ground  and  going,  again  noiselessly, 
toward  the  inner  cave. 

The  wind  ceased.  The  fire  decreased  to  half  a  dozen 
separate  sparks.  Darkness  hid  the  Indians  from  her 
eyes.  She  reached  out  her  hand  to  waken  the  dueiia, 
but  desisted. 

"Why  frighten  her?  Doubtless  they  are  ordinary 
peons  seeking  shelter  from  the  storm." 

After  a  while,  through  very  exhaustion,  she  slept. 

Her  eyes  opened  wide  almost  with  a  snap  and  she  sat 
bolt  upright.  A  portion  of  the  fire  had  been  replenished 
and  was  flaming  up.  A  low  cry  forced  itself  from  her 


94      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

lips  before  she  recognized  the  one  by  the  fire  to  be 
Brown.  "What  is  it?"  asked  the  girl. 

The  ducna  awakened  from  heavy  sleep. 

"The  horses — my  horses,"  she  cried,  her  wits  still 
half  slumbering.  "The  senor  said  they  are  safe.  What 
a  terrible  thing — is  the  man  still  standing  there?  I 
trust  his  master  will  have  the  impertinent  fellow 
whipped." 

Brown  felt  that  some  unusual  explanation  was  due 
from  him,  though  he  did  not  understand  a  word.  Bend 
ing  over,  he  placed  his  hands  on  his  hips  and  spoke  in 
a  mincing  way,  as  if  to  children. 

"Lady,  people  don't  need  be  'fraid  of  Injuns.  My 
employer's  all  right — good  man.  Injuns  say  much, 
then  I  fight  'em.  Cap'n  fight  'em — fight  'em  like  the 
devil." 

He  balled  his  right  hand  and  doubled  the  arm,  then 
patted  the  corded  muscles  approvingly  with  the  fingers 
of  his  left.  Finally  he  shook  his  fist  in  the  direction  of 
the  inner  cave  while  his  face  assumed  a  mock-ferocious 
expression. 

"I  suppose  he  is  threatening  his  kind  master.  I'll 
have  my  peons  beat  him  soudly  in  the  morning,  if  the 
master  wishes.  Fellow,  begone !  or  I'll  call  the  one  who 
owns  you." 

"Mamita,  you  mistake.  The  man  is  saying  not  to 
fear  the  Indians ;  that  he  and  his  'Captain  will  protect 
us." 

"Fear  the  Indians !  Well,  I  should  say  not !  Besides, 
there  are  no  Indians  here  to  fear,  except  that  wretched 
Luis  who  drove  my  horses,  and  he  has  a  broken  shoul- 


A  NIGHT  SPENT  IN  A  CAVE  95 

der,  the  scoundrel !  If  you  understand  this  creature, 
child,  tell  him  to  be  about  his  business  before  his  master 
learns  of  his  annoying  us." 

"Old  lady's  scared,  hey?  Scared  out  of  her  wits. 
Well,  I  reckon " 

"She  is  not  frightened,  but  I  was  a  while  ago  when 
two  Indians  were  here  and  crept  into  the  darkness, 
after  conducting  themselves  in  the  most  mysterious 
way."  The  dona  spoke  in  excellent  English. 

Extreme  astonishment  spread  over  Brown's  features. 
Then  he  looked  as  if  his  confidence  had  been  painfully 
abused. 

"Well,  I  swanny !  Well,  I  swanny !  If  this  here  don't 
beat  the  deuce." 

It  was  too  much  for  him.  His  hands  sought  his  thighs 
again,  and  he  looked  incredulously  at  the  girl. 

"If  I  do  say  it,  this  here  beats  the  deuce!" 

The  man  was  of  type  the  dona  had  never  met  before. 
However,  the  humor  of  the  situation  came  to  her  and 
she  laughed. 

"The  scamp  is  a  fool,  but  that's  nothing  so  unusual 
as  to  amuse  you  so,"  snapped  the  duena.  "I'm  going 
to  try  and  sleep.  I'll  let  his  master  know  of  this.  I'd 
have  this  fellow  shut  up  on  bread  and  water  for  ten 
days,  with  several  whippings  for  good  measure.  Ah — h  ! 
these  wet  clothes.  I'm  glad  we're  safe,  and  the  horses 
too." 

She  covered  her  eyes  with  the  blanket  to  shut  out  the 
firelight. 

"Does  the  old  lady  ketch  my  talk?  I  rather  thought 
she  saw  the  joke." 


96      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"She  understands  no  English." 

"Mebbe  not,  but  I  speak  plain  United  States.  It's 
wonderful  to  meet  one  of  you  folks  who  knows  how  to 
talk  straight  language." 

The  strangeness  of  the  place  and  time  did  not  pre 
vent  Senorita  Mendoza  from  again  being  amused.  "We 
certainly  speak  language — the  Spanish  language." 

"That's  what  I  call  'lingo,'  plain  'lingo.'  But  that's 
neither  here  nor  there.  You  talk  American  fine.  Of 
course  not  as  good  as  I  do.  You  couldn't  expect  that ; 
but  I  understand  every  word  you  say. 

"My  employer,  I  take  it,  is  English,"  Brown  went 
on,  "but  he  talks  my  talk  all  right — not  as  I  do  of 
course.  I'm  glad  he's  wise  as  he  is  that  way,  for 
'ceptin'  him,  yourself  included,  I  haven't  conversed 
with  nobody  for  months.  A  man  naturally  gets  just 
stale,  homesick  for  folks  and  talking." 

He  seated  himself  comfortably  by  the  fire,  threw  on 
a  dried  branch  or  two,  then,  nursing  one  knee  with  his 
hands  clasped  together,  he  looked  at  the  girl.  Weeks 
of  unshaven  stubble  gave  his  face  a  grotesque  appear 
ance,  but  Carmelita  had  a  feeling  of  protection  in  the 
presence  and  friendliness  of  this  serving  man. 

"You  speak  of  the  other  man  as  'captain'  and  some 
times  as  'employer.'  That  means  he  is  your  overseer, 
does  it  not?" 

"Well,"  in  a  puzzled  way,  "he  pays  me  for  my  time, 
and  I  do  the  work  he  cuts  out  for  me.  "That  there 
sums  up  the  relations  of  me  and  Cap'n." 

The  duena  stirred  in  her  sleep.     "My  horses " 

she  muttered,  then  was  quiet. 


A  NIGHT  SPENT  IN  A  CAVE  97 

"Guess  the  old  lady  ain't  restin'  well.  P'raps  she's 
troubled  with  nightmare." 

"No,  I  think  she's  worrying  about  her  horses." 

"Do  say !    Mebbe  they're  all  the  poor  creetur  has." 

Carmelita  smiled. 

"Well,  anyway,  I  hope  she's  got  enough  over  and 
above  to  buy  herself  another  wagon." 

"The  lady  here  spoke  a  while  ago  of  the  other  man 
owning  you " 

"Own  me ! — like  a  nigger — not  much !" 

The  leg  he  had  been  holding  shot  straight  before 
him.  Resting  his  palms  beside  him  on  the  ground  he 
looked  at  the  dona  in  mingled  amazement  and  indigna 
tion. 

"No  man  owns  me,  Miss — I  dunno  your  name.  I'm 
my  own  boss,  beholding  to  no  one  save  and  except 
Jehovah."  He  swept  one  arm  widely  over  his  head,  then 
used  it  as  a  prop  again.  "If  the  Cap'n  here  should  try 
to  come  it  over  me  as  master,  why,  decent  feller  that 
he  is,  I'd  chuck  him  body  and  bones  out  into  the  storm 
right  here  and  now.  My  politics  is,  one  man  is  good  as 
another  if  he  behaves  himself" — a  revelation  in  democ 
racy  to  the  dona. 

"I  greatly  appreciate  your  coming  to  tell  us  not  to 
be  frightened  of  those  Indians.  Likely  they  only  took 
refuge  from  the  storm,  as  did  we." 

Brown  shook  his  head. 

"I  reckon  they're  guides  to  the  big  huntin'  regions 
east  of  here  somewhere.  That's  where  we're  bound 
for,  and  that's  why  I  shipped  with  the  Cap'n 
in  the  first  place.  He's  death  on  big  game.  You 


98      THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

see,"  confidentially,  "I'm  a  steamboater  by  profes 
sion.  Up  and  down  the  Mississippi's  been  my  trick  for 
a  dozen  year.  Last  fall  followed  a  flock  of  prairie 
schooners  from  Saint  Joe  to  Santa  Fe,  largely  for  di 
version.  Met  the  Cap'n,  and  he  was  full  of  Californy 
and  huntin'  grizzlies.  He  wanted  a  man-of-all-work. 
I  wanted  a  job.  Here  I  be." 

"Your  life  has  been  of  great  interest,  I'm  sure." 

"Well,  then,  I'll  continue  where  I  left  off.  I  was 
asleep  when  the  Injuns  came.  They  were  talkin'  mad- 
like  with  the  boss  in  lingo.  He  gave  it  back  to  'em  in 
lingo.  They  p'inted  out  here  where  you  be,  and  I  took 
it  they  were  riled  up  about  you  folks.  The  Cap'n 
smoothed  'em  off  after  a  while.  I  strolled  along  to  tell 
you  some  way  not  to  be  scared  of  the  creeters,  if 
they'd  growled  at  you  when  they  came  in.  Here  I  still 
be." 

"Perhaps  you  wish  to  sleep  again  now." 

"Not  any.  Horses  all  saddled  to  start.  We  was 
guided  here  by  some  Injun  or  other.  Found  everything 
here  in  plenty.  Never  saw  anything  like  it.  Reckon 
when  Cap'n  is  through  in  there  we'll  start  somewhere. 
He  stops  for  no  weather.  I'll  foller  where  man  can 
lead." 

Brown's  flow  of  speech  had  left  him  talked  out.  He 
looked  at  the  girl  for  a  moment  or  two.  She  sat  with 
the  blanket  around  her  and  was  studying  him. 

He  finally  asked: 

"If  I'm  not  infringin'  on  the  idees  you've  been  raised 
by  I'd  like  to  ask  how  you  come  to  know  American  ?" 

She  laughed. 


A  NIGHT  SPENT  IN  A  CAVE  99 

"My  father  taught  me  English.  I  cannot  remember 
when  I  did  not  speak  it." 

"Well !    Your  pop's  Spanish,  I  take  it." 

"Yes.  He  learned  English  first  when  among  English 
men  in  the  Napoleonic  wars.  He  even  commanded  an 
English  regiment  for  a  time.  After  the  battle  of  Tala- 
vera  he  led  one  of  the  divisions  of  the  English  army 
off  the  field,  every  officer  above  him  having  been  cut 
down." 

"My  own  pop  fit  in  our  war  of  1812,  about  when 
that  Napoleon  was  raisin'  old  Scat.  My  pop  read  all 
about  it.  Old  gent's  sixty-nine  now.  Born  in  New 
Hampshire  was  pop ;  mom  in  old  Virginny.  They  met 
up  in  Missouria  and  married.  Here  I  be,  as  I  notified 
you  before." 

The  girl  did  not  make  comment. 

The  fire  died  low.    Brown  was  busy  with  his  thoughts. 

Three  men  came  from  within  the  inner  cave.  Car- 
melita  lay  back.  The  dim  light  showed  two  of  them  to 
be  the  Indians  she  had  seen  before,  the  third  was 
Brown's  employer.  The  Indians  were  plainly  enraged. 
The  other's  manner  was  suave  and  appeasing.  Their 
conversation  was  animated,  but,  for  a  time,  no  distinct 
word  reached  the  girl.  The  heavy  guttural  voices  of  the 
natives  contrasted  strongly  with  the  attempted  soothing 
tones  of  the  white  man. 

"Don't  be  skeered,  miss,"  whispered  Brown.  "We 
won't  let  'em  tech  ye." 

"Your  palaver  is  useless,  Sir  Englishman,"  one  of  the 
speakers  said  in  a  higher  key  than  before.  "Cash  in 
the  palm  is  your  only  argument  with  us."  The  tone 


100    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

was  vibrant  with  passion.  He  huddled  his  blanket 
closely  around  his  shoulders. 

Word  and  manner  of  the  white  man  were  smooth  as 
he  said :  "We  must  not  discuss  it  here.  Let  us  return 
to  the  inner  chamber.  Some  further  refreshment  you 
need  before  going  out  into  the  storm.  Let  us  further 
consider  my  offer  privately.  These  sefioras " 

"Huh!"  interrupted  the  Indian.  "I  care  nothing  if 
Administrator  Mendoza  hears  me,  let  alone  a  storm- 
driven  senora  or  two.  The  refreshment  you  offer  is  our 
own  cache.  Remember,  the  offer  that  carries  weight 
-with  us  is,  money  down." 

His  fellow  mumbled  some  word  of  assent. 

The  conversation  was  now  plainly  heard  by  the  dona. 

The  duena  half  awakened.  "Are  we  nearly  home?" 
sleepily.  "That  Luis  is  a  poor  driver." 

She  slept  again. 

"Old  lady  likely  is  riled  about  all  this  noise  when  she 
wants  to  sleep,"  Brown  remarked. 

"Come  back,  amigos.  Let  us  not  decide  thus  a  mat 
ter  of  grave  importance.  Come,  talk  further  in  retire 
ment,  and  then  make  another  appointment,  if  neces 
sary."  This  from  the  Captain. 

The  Indian  stamped  in  fury. 

"Come  back,  you  say — always  come  back  to  the  other 
chamber.  You  haggle  as  do  market-women  over  eggs. 
I  know  the  vastness  of  the  prize  you  seek.  As  superin 
tendent  of  the  Mission  vessels  have  I  sold  wheat  to 
English  dogs  in  the  north  and  Mexican  friends  in  the 
south,  so  do  I  know  of  what  I  speak.  Its  coast  line 
alone  marks  a  thousand  miles.  Itself  is  an  empire  ten 


A  NIGHT  S£ECT  IN  A  CA^£  ;  //      101 

times  the  area  of  your  petty  island.  I  say  I  am  willing 
to  help  you  make  your  own  this  territory,  still  you 
haggle,  haggle.  Huh!" 

"But,  my  friend,  we  must  keep  these  matters " 

"But,  my  friend — my  friend!"  the  Indian  mocked. 
"Men  unnumbered  are  at  my  command.  Still,  you  have 
only  words,  words,  words." 

"At  the  proper  time  and  place " 

"The  proper  time  and  place  is  now  and  here.  One 
hundred  thousand  pesos'  value  in  your  English  gold 
notes — you  claim  you  have  the  money  in  Monterey — 
place  you  in  my  hand  the  day  the  next  new  moon  is  born. 
Then,  when  you  wish,  my  subjects  in  the  inland — I  am 
their  king — declare  Great  Britain's  flag  to  be  their 
own,  and  I  will  hold  them  your  loyal  subjects." 

Brown  threw  some  wood  on  the  embers.  "That  Injun 
is  yelpin'  back  talk  at  the  Cap'n  any  fool  can  see.  I 
never  could  stand  much  sass  from  sech  people  myself," 
in  an  aside  to  Carmelita. 

"Come,  friend,  we  may  not  deliberate  here  for  others 
to  overhear.  Come  with  me.  I  have  your  point  of 
view " 

"Yes,  or  no,  sefior.  You  have  my  point  of  view,  you 
say.  Then,  accept  or  refuse.  You  are  not  the  only 
bidder." 

"A  glass  of  aguardiente  in  the  inner  chamber " 

"Ah!  you  refuse!  In  coming  here  my  time  was 
wasted.  I  go  elsewhere." 

Casting  blanket  away  he  strode  toward  the  darkness 
and  the  downpouring  rain.  As  he  neared  the  fire  the 
light  showed  his  face  clearly.  It  was  curiously  wrinkled, 


102    THE'3R1I3£  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

not  unlike  a  savage  dog  ready  to  bite.  His  companion 
followed  him. 

The  leader  was  the  dreaded  Yoscolo,  the  craftiest 
Indian  in  the  Californias,  and  the  best  educated.  The 
other  was  Stanislaus,  once  of  the  Mission  of  San  Jose, 
a  man  as  cruel  as  Yoscolo,  if  less  clever. 

The  dona  cuddled  nearer  the  bed  as  they  passed, 

"Hold!"  cried  the  Captain  as  the  Indians  reached 
the  cave  entrance.  "I'll  accept  your  proposition." 

They  turned. 

"Come  back  and  we  will  arrange  preliminaries 
within." 

"Done !"  said  the  leader.  Stanislaus  grunted  affirma 
tion. 

A  shout  sounded  in  the  open,  followed  by  the  words : 

"Here  is  the  carreta,  Sefior  Mendoza,  and  footprints 
leading  on.  Have  the  men  bring  lights." 

Mendoza's  voice  gave  some  order. 

"Juan  Antonio,  you  did  well,"  he  continued. 

The  Indians,  Yoscolo  and  Stanislaus,  vanished  like 
wraiths. 

"More  Injuns,  Cap'?"     inquired  Brown. 

"Possibly.     Let  us  go." 

"And  leave  the  ladies  to  be  skeered  to  death?  No, 
sirree !  I  stay." 

"Please  stay,"  requested  Carmelita  in  English.  "My 
father  is  here  and  will  thank  you." 

"The  women  are  safe,  Brown.  Out  the  other  en 
trance  of  the  cave.  Come,  I  tell  you." 

"Just  as  you  say,  Cap' — not  that  I'm  skeered  of  her 
pop.  You  lead  and  I'll  foller." 


A  NIGHT  SPENT  IN  A  CAVE  103 

Just  as  the  darkness  hid  them  Juan  Antonio  came 
into  the  cave.  He  was  covered  with  mud.  Mendoza 
followed  on  horseback.  Mounted  peons  filled  the  cave 
entrance. 

"Papacito !  Papacito !"  Carmelita  ran  toward  her 
father. 

"My  child,  come  thou  to  me!"  springing  to  the 
ground  and  clasping  her  in  his  arms. 

"I'll  not  have  such  a  commotion  in  my  house,"  an 
nounced  the  duena,  returning  from  sleep.  "It  is  not 
the  hour  for  the  fandango." 

Light  flared  from  the  replenished  fire. 

"Why,  Senor  Mendoza!"  now  quite  awake.  "How 
did  you  manage  to  find  this  place  on  such  a  dark  night?" 

Mendoza  pointed  to  Juan  Antonio.  "He  followed 
your  steps  even  in  the  darkness.  To  horse,  at  once, 
senora,  and  you  too,  my  child.  The  storm  abates,  only 
to  resume  shortly.  We  must  reach  the  main  road  be 
fore  the  rising  water  bars  our  way.  Let  us  go.  May 
God  be  thanked  for  your  safety!  How  made  you  this 
fire?" 

"Those  who  are  gone  built  it,  my  father." 

"When  we  numbered  not  thy  carreta  with  the  others 
sorrow  darker  than  the  night  ruled  my  soul.  Now  is  the 
blackness  light.  Hence,  and  quickly !  To  horse,  all !" 

In  a  moment  the  cave  was  alone  with  the  fire  and  the 
shadows. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS 

*T)IG  game  occupyin'  mud  houses  endurin'  the  wet 
D     spell,  be  they  Cap'?" 

The  Captain  sharply  drew  up  his  bridle  reins. 

"Brown,  are  the  wages  I  pay  satisfactory  to  you?" 

"You  bet,  Cap'.  They're  the  best  I've  ever  had.  If 
the  wages  and  the  place  didn't  suit  me,  you'd  have 
heard  me  talk  long  before  this." 

"Very  well,  my  man.  We  are  now  entering  Monterey, 
the  capital  of  this  province.  Your  sole  concern  there 
will  be  with  preparations  for  further  journeys  accord 
ing  as  I  give  you  orders." 

"Just  as  you  say,  Cap',"  from  the  placid  Brown. 
"Of  course  you  remember  I  shipped  with  you  on  the 
proposition  of  big  game  huntin'." 

The  other  did  not  reply. 

The  small  adobe  dwellings,  dubbed  "mud  houses"  by 
Brown,  were  succeeded  by  more  pretentious  ones  as  the 
riders  neared  the  town  proper.  From  every  dooryard 
the  prickly-pear  cactus  pointed  its  heavy  oval  leaves. 
Sweet  peas  rioted  in  tinting  of  sky  and  sunshine.  The 
Castilian  rose,  blushing  and  demure,  bowed  from  its 
stem  in  challenge  to  the  hand  of  the  passer-by. 

It  was  the  children  rolling  and  tumbling  along  the 
muddy  street  who  drew  Brown  out  of  his  silence. 

104 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS         105 

"By  hicky!  this  here  is  a  monstrous  place  for  chil 
dren.  Just  now  I  actually  counted  eighteen  on  one 
front  stoop.  They  was  in  reg'lar  graydashun  of  sizes 
from  a  foot  up  to  five  feet  six  inches,  I  should  jedge." 
This  critically. 

"The  province  could  easily  support  one  thousand 
times  its  present  population,"  replied  the  other. 

Amusement  and  contempt  struggled  together  on  the 
face  of  honest  Brown. 

"One  thousand  times  as  many  Injuns  as  is  cumberin' 
the  ground  right  now!  By  hickey!  I  don't  think  the 
Almighty  should  allow  it." 

They  entered  the  large  plaza  around  which  were 
many  of  the  important  buildings  of  the  capital.  Here 
ran  in  full  stream  the  life  of  early  California.  Indian 
women,  gay  in  colored  shawl  and  gown,  edged  their  way 
among  the  fiery  steeds  drawing  the  carreta  of  the 
grandee's  family.  The  Mexican  smoking  his  corn-paper 
cigarito  touched  elbows  with  the  hidalgo's  son  who  was 
clad  in  velvet  and  fine  linen,  with  inlaid  gold  on  his  hat 
band  and  gold  spur  on  his  heels. 

Skins  brown,  skins  red,  skins  white  intermingled. 
Wealth  and  lack  of  it  walked  side  by  side.  There  was 
no  poverty  in  the  California  of  this  time. 

"Well,  I  swanny !"  from  Brown.  "Did  you  ever  see 
such  a  theayter?" 

The  Captain  alighted  near  a  long  line  of  low  build 
ings.  A  peon  came  forth  bowing  obsequiously. 

"Let  this  man  take  the  horses,  Brown.  He  will  show 
you  an  eatinghouse.  Remain  not  very  far  from  this 
place  until  I  return." 


106    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Well,  by  Gosh !  Left  with  the  heathen  and  his  flesh 
pots !  I  say,  Cap' " 

The  Captain  was  gone.  Whereupon  Brown  followed 
whither  the  peon  led  him,  the  while  speaking  naive 
criticisms  of  this  worthy  and  of  all  things  Californian. 
The  Indian  understood  nothing,  but  grinned  obligingly 
whenever  he  saw  the  stranger  had  completed  some  period 
or  other  of  his  discourse. 

The  disappearance  of  his  "Cap*  "  did  not  disturb 
Brown.  He  had  become  too  well  accustomed  to  the 
Sittings  of  the  chief.  Their  place  of  residence  was  in 
a  canon  of  the  high  mountains,  a  score  of  miles  east  of 
the  pueblo  San  Jose.  Here  a  rude  cabin  had  been  found 
formerly  occupied  by  vaquero  peons.  From  this  point 
the  leader  and  his  factotum  sallied  forth  on  many  an 
excursion.  If  Brown  wondered  at  the  meaning  of  it 
all,  he  rarely  questioned,  and  never  searchingly.  It 
sufficed  that  finally  they  would  hunt  "big  game." 

The  Captain,  hastening  along  a  narrow  street,  came 
to  a  plaza  smaller  than  the  one  he  had  left,  but  other 
wise  similar  to  it,  around  which  were  grouped  many  of 
the  homes  of  officialdom.  This  plaza  was  the  center  of 
the  fashionable  as  well  as  of  the  political  life  of  the 
province. 

He  stopped  before  one  of  the  most  imposing  resi 
dences.  Within  the  porte-cochere  a  man  sat  on  a 
bench.  He  was  the  outside  guardian  of  the  dwelling,  a 
position  of  importance  at  the  time. 

"I  wish  to  speak  with  one  of  the  house,"  the  Captain 
announced. 

The  other  arose  and  bowed  ceremoniously. 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS         107 

"Whom  have  I  the  honor  of  addressing?" 

"Will  you  carry  the  Sefiora  Dona  Valentino  word 
that  a  man  is  here  to  see  her  on  the  king's  business?" 

The  stranger's  unpretentious  attire  and  travel- 
stained  appearance  had  not  deterred  the  guard  from 
showing  him  the  suave  courtesy  a  guest  should  receive, 
but  the  words,  "on  the  king's  business"  seemed  to  sting 
the  Spanish-American. 

"Senor,"  in  grandiose  manner,  "I  am  a  citizen  of 
Mexico,  an  official  of  this  household.  No  king  and  no 
one  on  the  king's  business  is  welcome  where  rules  the 
republic  of  Mexico." 

"Confound  it,  man!  take  my  words  to  the  senora. 
She  will  understand.  I  have  no  time  for  your  heroics. 
Hurry  up,  I  tell  you!" 

The  other  crossed  his  arms  and  looked  disdainfully 
at  the  Captain. 

"On  the  king's  business,  you  say!  On  the  king's 
business !  Have  you  been  asleep  these  many  years  and 
awakened  only  now  ?  Have  you " 

"Have  done  with  your  twaddle,  man.  I'll  find  some 
body  inside  who  will  carry  my  word."  He  started  along 
the  porte-cochere  to  the  front  door. 

"Stop !    Stop  !    At  your  peril !    Stay  your  feet,  sir !" 

"It's  all  right,  Benito.  I'll  usher  the  seiior  to  the 
reception  room  myself.  Come,  amigo,  with  me,"  broke 
in  a  soft  voice  now  addressed  to  the  Captain. 

The  petty  official  was  all  apologies  and  deep  bows. 
The  Captain  paid  no  attention  to  him. 

"Come,  Captain,  with  me." 

"I  thank  you,  Senora  Valentino." 


108    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  chanced  to  be  passing  the  main  vestibule  and  saw 
you.  Benito's  patriotism  was  opposing  your  way. 
No?" 

They  were  walking  along  a  wide  corridor  of  the  man 
sion.  Sunlight  poured  in  through  many  small-paned 
windows.  Peons,  men  and  women,  were  constantly 
going  and  coming. 

"This  Benito's  patriotism  should  be  flogged  out  of 
his  skin,"  was  the  reply. 

The  lady  laughed.  They  reached  a  large  door  which 
she  opened  by  pressing  a  spring  at  the  side. 

"His  patriotism,  then,  is  but  skin  deep,  you  think?" 

She  motioned  the  Captain  to  a  chair.  The  door 
slammed  with  a  metallic  click.  They  were  in  a  small 
room  well  lighted.  Book  shelves,  closely  filled,  writing 
material,  and  desks,  bespoke  the  library. 

"I  fancy  this  creature's  patriotism  would  well  be 
termed  impertinence.  This  have  I  seen  often  enough 
disappear  under  fervent  application  of  a  riding-whip." 

She  looked  closely  at  the  speaker. 

"Captain  Farquharson,"  after  a  moment,  "you  have 
been  in  the  Californias  more  months  than  I  have  weeks. 
Neither  is  this  your  first  visit.  No?" 

"It  is  not." 

Senora  Valentino  nodded. 

"Greater  opportunities  for  observation,  decidedly, 
have  you  had  than  I.  Still,  I  will  say,  noble  sefior,  that 
the  Mexicans  here  are  vastly  different  from  the  natives 
of  Hindustan  where  you  have  been;  or  even  from  the 
peasantry  of  southeastern  Europe  where,  in  other  times, 
your  fertile  talents  have  found  employment." 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS         109 

"True  of  the  few  Spaniards  here,  and  their  descend 
ants.  I  cannot  agree,  my  lady,  with  you  as  to  the  Mexi 
cans.  They " 

She  raised  a  delicate,  well- jeweled  hand,  perhaps  to 
interrupt  him;  more  likely,  to  emphasize  what  she  had 
begun  to  say. 

"My  Captain,  blows  will  never  win  the  Mexican  to 
favor  your  cause — I  should  say,  our  cause — any  more 
than  will  they  the  Spaniard.  Both  have  tasted  here  the 
sweets  of  personal  liberty  in  no  small  degree.  We  must 
imbue  them  with  a  desire  for  the  ampler  freedom  of 
Anglo-Saxon  civilization,  balancing  thereby  their  love 
for  Latin  forbears  ;  or,  at  least,  for  Latin  form. 

Farquharson  lightly  struck  the  desk  near  his  chair. 

"Gain  the  leaders,  sefiora,  gain  the  leaders ;  and  we 
drive  the  others  after  them  like  sheep.  Once,  in  Cal 
cutta " 

"Perhaps  in  some  province  of  India — never  in  the 
province  of  California.  Bethink  you,  Captain!  Sup 
pose  that  bold  spirit  in  the  north,  Mendoza,  should 
dream  your  great  country  has  here  an  agent  purposing 
to  do  what  you  say.  Not  the  years  of  the  prophet, 
which  he  has  lived,  would  hold  him  from  leading  his 
mounted  peons,  night  and  day  in  search  of  you." 

"Then  what,  my  lady?" 

"Then  delivering  you,  at  the  end  of  a  lariat,  to  the 
Colonel  Barcelo,  my  brother-in-law,  owner  of  this  house, 
and  head  of  the  military  prison  here." 

The  beautiful  woman,  leaning  in  her  chair,  placed 
her  hand  on  the  Captain's  arm.  "Now  to  business. 
Your  message  found  me  here  two  days  ago.  Of  course 


110    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

mine  found  you."  She  paused  a  moment  thoughtfully, 
then  continued: 

"Colonel  Barcelo  returns  to-night.  I  have  planned 
for  you  to  visit  us  this  evening.  You  are  my  friend, 
Captain  Farquharson,  whom  I  knew  in  London  two 
years  ago.  You  are  in  the  West  for  big  game.  Is  it 
not  so?"  She  laughed. 

"Does  Colonel  Barcelo  know  of  the  wishes  of  my 
government  ?" 

"He  knows  nothing.  I  am  seeking  to  prepare  him 
for  such  knowledge,  however.  To-night  you  may  speak 
much  or  little,  as  you  think  wise." 

"Senora,  you  spent  several  days  at  the  home  of 
Senor  Mendoza  after  the  storm.  Did  any  word  of  yours 
sound  him  as  to  his  political  feelings?" 

"Senor  Mendoza's  words  on  such  matters  come 
slowly.  I  believe  his  thoughts  are  correspondingly 
rapid." 

"Why  so,  senora?" 

"During  my  short  stay  in  his  hacienda  house  many 
young  men  came  there.  You  know  his  daughter  Car- 
melita  is  a  beautiful  girl." 

The  Captain  started  to  speak,  but  smiled  instead. 

"These  caballeros  were  duly  presented  to  me.  For 
some  reason  they  spoke,  at  first  casually,  but,  finally, 
earnestly,  concerning  the  future  political  status  of  this 
province.  I  listened." 

The  Captain  laughed.  "Senora,  how  did  you  man 
age  to  get  the  young  hidalgos  talking  on  such  a  sub- 
ject?" 

Fie!     Fie!     Captain.       Even    a    soldier    diplomat 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS         111 

should  not  seek  to  understand  a  woman's  ways.  Let  it 
suffice  that  they  talked." 

"Yes,  yes,  senora,  they  talked.     They  said " 

"Many  things.  A  number  sat  or  were  standing 
around  me  in  the  reception  room  one  evening.  The 
wine  warmed  them,  though  they  drank  not  intem- 
perately.  Politics  rolled  from  their  tongues. 

"Spoke  the  handsome  youth,  Abelardo  Peralta: 
'Why  wait  for  Mexico  to  drop  us?  Let  us  declare 
now  our  freedom  and  become  a  province  of  mighty 
England.'  A  dozen  others  joined  in  declaring  for 
England.  Senor  Mendoza  was  listening  to  all  this 
conversation,  meanwhile  beaming  on  everybody.  Now 
he  spoke  for  the  first  time.  Said  he:  'Since  we  are 
giving  away  provinces,  let  us  go  to  the  ballroom.  The 
senoritas  are  waiting.  It  is  the  province  of  hearts 
there,  and  giving  and  taking  is  always  in  order.'  Thus 
deftly  did  our  wary  host  stem  the  current.  Mendoza's 
keenness  is  an  element  not  to  be  lightly  considered." 

"Was  there  Morando?  No?"  asked  Captain  Farqu- 
harson,  falling  into  the  manner  of  speech  of  the  Span 
iard. 

"Yes,  Morando  was  there.  Eyes,  ears,  hands,  feet, 
and  heart  has  he  for  the  Senorita  Dona  Mendoza." 

The  serene  calm  of  the  woman  ruffled  ever  so  little. 

"Morando  cannot  have  vented  his  Spanish  citizen 
ship  thus  soon.  Doubtless  easily  he  becomes  one  of 
us." 

"I  fancy  it  will  be  as  says  the  Senorita  Mendoza, 
who,  in  turn,  is  deeply  in  love  with  her  father.  Cap 
ture  the  gray  eagle  and  the  nest  is  yours." 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  suppose  so.  I  suppose  so.  Why  came  Morando 
to  California,  do  you  know?  Anything  against  him  in 
Madrid,  anything  we  could  use  to  influence  him  here, 
I  mean?" 

"Nothing — absolutely  nothing."  After  a  pause :  "At 
Mission  San  Jose  there  are  two  men  who  could  persuade 
North  California  for  us  or  against  us.  Mind,  I  say 
'persuade';  for,  unless  I  mistake  greatly,  neither  one 
would  consent  to  act  as  bell-wether  after  which  go 
willy-nilly  the  sheep  flock." 

He  waited  for  her  to  go  on. 

"One  of  these  two  men  is,  of  course,  Senor  Mendoza ; 
the  other  is  Padre  Osuna." 

"A  word  about  the  seiior,  my  lady.  I  recognize  the 
man's  worth  and  ability,  and  the  weight  he  would  add 
to  our  cause ;  yet  I  do  not  think  it  wise  to  approach  him 
myself." 

"May  I  ask  your  reason?" 

"Colonel  Mendoza  and  I  met  in  the  old  days  when  I 
was  a  young  man." 

"A  young  man,  Captain?"  archly. 

"I  have  seen  a  half  century  of  life.  My  meeting  with' 
Mendoza  was  thus  wise.  At  Talavera  the  allied  forces 
opposed  the  French.  In  a  preliminary  skirmish  our  col 
onel  was  wounded.  My  regiment  held  a  position  in  the 
extreme  forward  center.  Colonel  Mendoza  was  hastily 
called  from  the  left  wing  of  the  army,  where  the  Spanish 
troops  were,  and  was  placed  over  us.  The  French  be 
gan  the  battle  by  heavy  cannonading.  The  captain  of 
my  own  company,  also  the  first  and  the  second  lieu 
tenant,  were  blown  to  pieces  before  an  hour.  I  was 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS         113 

third  lieutenant.  To  save  the  men  from  annihilation, 
as  I  believed,  I  withdrew  a  little  distance. 

"The  Spanish  colonel  was  furious.  He  dashed  up  on 
his  horse,  ordered  the  company  in  position,  subjecting 
me  all  the  while  to  vitriolic  criticism." 

"What  did  you,  Captain?" 

"I  replied  to  him.  He  struck  me  with  the  flat  of  his 
sword." 

"And  what  did  you  then?" 

"I  could  do  nothing.  We  were  in  the  face  of  the 
enemy  then,  as  for  months.  Later,  the  allied  forces 
were  separated.  A  generation  has  lived  and  passed 
since  that  blood-stained  day  of  Talavera.  Mendoza, 
doubtless,  does  not  remember  me.  Still,  it  would 
not  be  wise  to  risk  injury  to  our  cause  by  bringing  to 
play  any  ill  feeling  he  might  possibly  retain  against 
me." 

"Our  Captain  is  judicious."  Continuing:  "Know 
you  the  value  of  these  Calif ornias?" 

"They  are  the  pivotal  center  of  Orient  and  Occident. 
My  government  well  knows  the  harbors  here,  their  pos 
sibilities " 

The  senora's  raised  hand  stopped  him.  Her  fingers 
ran  along  the  wall  searchingly.  At  last  she  pressed 
hard,  then  harder. 

The  wall  separated  at  a  line  above  her  head,  the  lower 
part  of  the  wall  slowly  sinking  through  the  floor. 

"I  am  going  to  show  you  the  treasure-chamber  of  a 
dead-and-gone  governor  of  the  Californias,  when  the 
province  was  a  part  of  Spain." 

A  room  half  the  size  of  the  library  was  in  view.    Stone 


114    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

mortars  were  on  the  floor,  and  on  the  shelves.  Resting 
on  the  brims  of  the  vessels,  and  caught  on  the  rough 
sides  of  the  exteriors,  were  many  yellow  particles  which 
dully  shone  in  the  newly-admitted  light. 

"Why,  this  is  gold !  gold !"  touching  his  fingers  on  the 
edge  of  a  jar.  "These  stones  must  once  have  held  the 
ransom  of  a  king!"  pointing  to  the  interior  of  one 
mortar  after  another.  Amidst  spider-webs  and  the 
accumulated  dust  of  years  lay  thin  streaks  of  gold- 
dust  tracing  the  way  from  rim  to  bottom. 

He  examined  an  ancient  broom  which  lay  among  the 
receptacles,  gold  showing  among  its  moldy  strands. 
"Zounds !  senora.  It  is  pure  gold.  I've  seen  it  in  its 
native  state  the  world  over." 

He  crossed  the  room.  As  he  walked  tiny  nuggets  of 
the  metal  which  had  escaped  the  sweepings  of  the  old- 
timer  grated  under  his  feet.  Fingermarks  could  be  seen 
on  the  floor  where  the  treasure  had  been  scooped  up 
by  the  single  and  double  handfuls. 

"Twenty  years  ago  I  was  told  that  California's  hills 
and  valleys  framed  a  skeleton  of  virgin  gold.  Here 
may  be  proof  of  it.  Pray,  my  lady,  what  do  you  know 
of  this?  Where  did  the  gold  come  from?" 

She  indicated  some  maps  hanging  on  the  walls. 
"These  drawings  show  whence  came  the  gold  which  once 
rested  here." 

"Yes — yes — they  show — they  show  a  river  flowing 
from  high  hills — and  the  direction  from  Monterey — 
north  of  east  it  is.  Here  is  the  scale  of  miles.  Why, 
it  is  not  a  fortnight's  journey  to  the  place.  Ah! — here 
are  signs — yes,  signs — but,  perdition!  they  are  hiero- 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS         115 

glyphics.  I  can  make  out  nothing  more.  Senora,  how 
in  the  name  of  mystery  did  you  learn  of  this  trick- 
room?" 

She  had  been  standing  quietly,  noting  with  interest 
and  some  little  amusement  the  varied  activities  and  re 
marks  of  the  Captain. 

"The  secret  was  made  known  to  me  in  Spain.  The 
one-time  Spanish  governor  built  a  palace  in  Seville,  on 
his  home-coming  from  Monterey,  and  lived  ever  after 
as  a  prince.  These  jars  supplied  the  wherewithal.  As 
I  heard  it,  he  intended  to  return  some  day,  on  private 
ship,  for  yet  vaster  measure  of  this  golden  sifting  which 
lies  hidden  in  the  California  hills,  but  alas !  too  much 
good  living  and  gout  did  not  permit." 

"This  is  wonderful — most  wonderful !  Somewhere  in 
the  hills  there  is  gold,  quantities  of  gold.  Likewise, 
there  is  gold  in  these  fertile  valleys,  for  they  smile  in 
verdure  and  give  promise  of  rich  harvest  a  week  after 
the  drought  is  over.  My  lady,  the  world  never  dreams 
of  the  possibilities  of  this  province." 

"Clive  gave  India  to  England.  May  we  not  do  even 
more?" 

"Just  so,  senora,  just  so.  Does  anyone  else  know  of 
this  room?" 

"Quite  likely  no  one.  Even  Colonel  Barcelo  does  not, 
his  own  house  as  it  is." 

"But  these  maps !  Do  you  not  think  it  singular  that 
the  owner  did  not  most  carefully  preserve  these  talis- 
manic  signs,  and  take  them  away  with  him?" 

"They  were  left  here  with  purpose,  friend  of  mine." 

"And  that  purpose?" 


116    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Oceans  are  stormy,  distances  long,  buccaneers 
many,  brave  Captain." 

"I  do  not  catch  your  meaning,  senora.  Do  enlighten 
me." 

"In  plain  words,  then :  if  that  gold  should,  perchance, 
take  wings,  the  whilom  possessor,  aided  by  his  maps, 
could  get  another  precious  cargo.  But  if  the  maps,  as 
well,  should  take  unto  themselves  flight,  what  then? 
Perhaps  no  more  of  the  yellow  metal !  So,  my  wise  and 
thrifty  governor-general  of  the  province  made  two  sets 
of  drawings,  taking  the  one  with  him,  leaving  the  other 
snugly  ensconced  in  our  little  treasure-chamber  here," 
pointing  whimsically  about  the  room. 

"But,  my  lady,  how  did  you  learn  all  these  things?" 

"This  same  governor-general  was  my  late  husband's 
grandfather.  He  left  in  cipher  a  description  of  this 
room,  of  the  maps  and  of  the  mine.  For  more  than 
fifty  years  the  key  to  the  cipher  was  mislaid.  I  chanced 
to  come  across  it,  six  months  ago,  in  the  archives  of  my 
husband's  family.  The  cryptogram  stated  that  the 
treasure  which  once  filled  these  mortars  was  but  a  hint 
of  greater  riches  in  the  mountains." 

"What  a  country !  What  a  land  this  will  be  when 
the  union  jack  tips  the  flag-pole  at  Monterey!" 

"A  country  well  worth  the  hire,  Captain  mine." 

"You  speak  of  Friar  Lusciano  Osuna.  I  called  on 
him,  not  long  since,  with  letters.  He  was  ill,  but  very 
courteous.  I  explained  a  little  of  our  work  here.  I  take 
it  he  is  a  Mexican  citizen." 

"He  is  a  citizen  of  Great  Britain." 

"Perhaps  by  some  sufferance." 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS         117 

"By  his  eminent  right !  That  government  would  go 
much  farther  in  his  protection  than  it  would  for  you 
or  for  me,  though  we  are  its  special  agents  in  a  great 
cause." 

"Just  the  man  we  need,  then,  senora." 

A  knock  at  the  door. 

Noiselessly  weight  and  spring  raised  the  movable 
wall  to  its  place. 

Without  was  an  elderly  Mexican  leaning  rather 
stiffly  on  a  cane. 

"Your  gringo  servant  has  made  much  trouble  for 
himself,  and  is  now  in  jail,"  the  man  said  to  Farqu- 
harson. 

"How  do  you  know  it  is  my  servant  ?" 

"He  told  me.  I  am  under  jailer.  I  was  directed  to 
Colonel  Barcelo's,  whither  some  said  you  had  gone.  The 
peons  here  brought  me  to  you.  Your  servant,  sir, 
getting  in  liquor,  shot  one  of  the  officers  of  the  guard. 
Now,  he  wishes  to  see  you  on  a  matter  of  gravest  im 
portance.  Doubtless  he  will  be  executed  at  sunset. 
Will  you  come,  sefior?" 

"Zounds !  Adios,  senora.  I'll  return  as  soon  as  I  have 
settled  this  wretched  business.  I  must  get  poor  Brown 
out  of  his  predicament,  let  come  what  may." 

The  messenger,  followed  by  the  Captain,  passed  out 
of  the  house.  They  followed  the  street  to  a  narrow 
passage  and  turned  into  it.  The  supposed  elderly 
Mexican  shook  himself.  Away  fell  disguise,  and  the 
scowling  face  of  Yoscolo  was  before  Farquharson. 

"You  root-digging  beast!"  exclaimed  the  English 
man  through  his  shut  teeth.  He  aimed  a  blow  with  his 


118    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

fist  at  the  chieftain's  head.  Yoscolo  ducked  to  one  side. 
A  blanket  fell  from  behind  over  the  Captain's  face  and 
shoulders.  A  strong  embrace  pinioned  his  arms  and 
carried  him  up  many  stairs,  his  muffled  shouts  not 
sounding  above  the  shuffle  of  accompanying  feet. 

Soon  Farquharson  was  pushed  through  an  entrance. 
Yoscolo  gave  quick  orders  in  the  Indian  tongue.  His 
men  bound  the  Englishman  hand  and  foot,  and  removed 
the  blanket  from  his  head.  He  found  himself  in  a  large 
room  lighted  by  a  lantern.  Several  rude  benches  lined 
the  walls,  while  dried  grass  in  a  corner  where  blankets 
lay  marked  the  sleeping  place  of  Indians  or  of  lower- 
class  Mexicans. 

"Bring  a  settee  for  the  Captain,"  said  the  leader, 
with  mock  politeness.  "He  must  be  weary  after  his 
recent  exertion." 

His  men  complied. 

"More  comfortable  now,  amigo?"  when  Farquharson 
was  seated.  "Well,  then,  let's  to  business.  I've  not  much 
time  to  spend  with  you." 

Farquharson  paid  no  attention  to  him. 

"Perhaps  you  do  not  understand.  Is  it  so?  Well, 
listen  now.  Captain  Farquharson,  you  promised  me 
the  value  of  a  hundred  thousand  pesos  in  English  gold 
notes  the  day  the  next  new  moon  was  born.  That  day 
was  yesterday.  The  gold  notes  are  in  your  hands,  not 
mine.  Your  word  is  a  lie."  The  Indian  was  speaking 
in  very  fair  English. 

The  Captain  did  not  reply. 

"You  waste  my  time,"  speaking  now  in  Spanish.  "I 
have  much  to  do  and  cannot  trifle.  You  have  in  Mon- 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS         119 

terey,  in  the  hands  of  the  English  consul,  the  value  of 
one  hundred  thousand  pesos  in  gold  notes.  So  you  have 
said.  Place  the  money  in  my  hand  and  I'll  turn  my 
loyal  subjects  in  the  interior  valleys  to  your  cause.  My 
word  is  true." 

"Take  away  these  cords.  Allow  me  to  go  free;  then, 
come  with  me  to  the  consul's,  and  there  we'll  consider 
what  you  say." 

The  Indian  shook  his  head.  "Captain  Farquharson 
never  leaves  this  room  alive  unless  the  money  is  paid 
first." 

"The  British  consul  will  not  pay  you  the  money  un 
less  I  am  with  you." 

"Fear  not,  Captain.  I'll  take  chances  on  getting  the 
money." 

Farquharson  laughed  in  spite  of  his  bonds. 

"Nonsense,  Indian !" 

"Nonsense  or  not,  give  me  an  order,  leaving  blank  the 
name  of  payee ;  stamp  it  with  your  seal — I  found  it  in 
your  pocket  just  now — and  I'll  collect  the  money.  In 
two  hours  from  that  time  you  will  be  free." 

"I  must  take  time  to  decide  what  I'll  do." 

"There  is  only  one  thing  for  you  to  do." 

"Let  me  free,  so  that  I  may  decide  the  more  quickly." 

A  voice  called  through  the  door.  Without  replying 
to  Farquharson,  Yoscolo  made  a  quick  gesture.  The 
others  gagged  the  prisoner  with  a  scarf-end,  and  blind 
folded  him  with  a  piece  of  silken  sash. 

The  door  was  opened.  A  whispered  conversation  fol 
lowed,  then  he  heard  the  heavy  tread  of  Yoscolo  de 
scending  the  stairs. 


120    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  men  placed  the  Captain  on  the  bed. 

After  what  appeared  an  interminable  time  the  watch 
ers  ungagged  him  and  placed  food  at  his  lips.  He  ate 
of  the  tortillas,  or  Mexican  corn  bread,  and  of  the  chili 
con  carne,  or  stewed  meat  and  chili  peppers,  which  were 
offered.  A  glass  of  Mission  wine  followed. 

"Amigos,  I  can  make  you  rich.  Loosen  these  ropes 
and  come  with  me.  Why  not  be  free  from  such  a  master 
as  Yoscolo,  and  be  rich  at  the  same  time?  A  ship  will 
take  you  and  your  money  where  he  can  never  reach 
you." 

The  gag  was  hastily  replaced. 

The  hours  passed  slowly.     At  last  he  fell  asleep. 

The  leader's  voice  awakened  him,  saying:  "Free  his 
mouth  and  eyes." 

It  was  done. 

In  the  dim  light  he  saw  Yoscolo  standing  before  him 
with  folded  arms.  The  others,  like  unblinking  watch 
dogs,  were  by  his  side. 

"Captain,  will  you  write  that  order?  Surely,  you 
have  had  time  to  think  now." 

"It  would  be  foolish  to  do  as  you  say.  Come  now, 
release  me;  give  some  earnest  of  turning  your  San 
Joaquin  camps  to  our  side,  then  I'll  pay  you  the  money 
and  bear  no  grudge  against  you  for  tying  me  up  here." 

The  chieftain  grunted. 

"Grudge  or  not,  white  man,  I'm  too  useful  to  your 
side  for  you  to  work  out  spite  against  me.  Write  that 
order.  Write,  also,  a  note  to  the  consul  saying  you 
were  suddenly  called  to  Los  Angeles — or  any  place. 
Date  both  order  and  note  two  days  ago — you  have  been 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS 

here  in  this  room  that  length  of  time — and  you  go  free. 
I  have,  then,  the  money ;  you  will  have  my  support — a 
very  happy  ending  to  your  detention." 

"But  see,  Yoscolo " 

Yoscolo  interrupted  with  an  oath.  "You  shall  haggle 
with  me  no  more.  Men,  bring  fire  for  his  feet  and  hands. 
I'll  make  the  fox  come  to  time.  Captain  Farquharson, 
you  write  that  order  and  note,  or  I'll  torture  you  till 
you  do." 

A  fourth  Indian  entered  the  room  silently,  and  spoke 
to  the  leader. 

Yoscolo  stamped  in  fury.  "Carrajo!  Puerco!  I  not 
only  have  to  be  the  brains,  but  the  hands,  in  everything. 
What's  the  matter  with  Stanislaus  ?  Where  is  he  ?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  meekly  replied  the  messenger. 

"I  do  not  know!  What  do  you  know?  Get  out  of 
here !" 

The  man  disappeared,  closely  followed  by  Yoscolo. 

The  Indian  watchers  looked  at  Farquharson  without 
speaking. 

"Amigos " 

They  placed  their  hands  on  their  pistols  threaten 
ingly- 

"Ease  the  cords  on  my  feet,"  he  asked.  "Your  chief 
will  not  object  to  that." 

Each  Indian  touched  his  lips,  then  dropped  his  hands 
to  his  pistol  butt. 

The  sperm  oil  in  the  lantern  burned  low.  The  men 
extinguished  the  light,  to  replenish  the  oil.  In  a  few 
minutes  it  was  again  burning  brightly. 

The  astounded  Indians  saw  Farquharson  standing  in 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

front  of  them,  wrists  and  ankles  free,  brandishing  an 
open  clasp-knife. 

They  cowered  away  from  him.  He  moved  toward  the 
door  as  fast  as  his  benumbed  limbs  could  take  him. 

Dread  of  Yoscolo  overcame  their  superstitious  fear. 
They  drew  their  pistols,  and  commanded :  "Hands  up ! 
Away  from  the  door!" 

Farquharson  dropped  his  knife.  He  moved  his  arms 
over  his  head  in  extraordinary  fashion,  grimaced  at  the 
ceiling,  then  moved  slowly  toward  his  jailers.  Flirting 
his  fingers  ominously  at  them,  he  exclaimed  in  sepul 
chral  tones:  "Winky,  wanky,  wunky,  fum!  Winky, 
wanky,  wunky,  fum !" 

Despite  the  pain  in  his  ankles  he  executed  a  miniature 
war-dance  on  the  floor,  again  solemnly  uttering: 
"Winky,  wanky,  wunky,  fum!" 

The  Indians  moved  back  from  him,  again  overcome 
by  his  "big  medicine."  In  one  of  his  eccentric  move 
ments  he  managed  to  knock  over  the  lantern,  the  oil 
running  out  over  the  floor.  They  snorted  in  terror,  and 
began  some  incantation. 

Farquharson  found  the  door  and  started  downstairs. 
His  feet  refused  further  action.  He  fell  and  slid  down 
to  a  landing. 

The  Indians  heard  the  fall.  There  was  a  colloquy 
and  a  rush  across  the  floor. 

The  Captain  attempted  to  crawl  to  the  next  flight  of 
stairs,  but  he  could  move  but  slowly. 

The  Indians  opened  the  door. 

"Light  the  lantern,"  called  one. 

A  voice  could  be  heard  in  the  street :   "Have  ye  seen 


THE  POLITICAL  POT  SIMMERS         123 

the  Cap'n?  O,  I  say,  have  ye  seen  the  Cap'n?  Burn 
ye,  can't  ye  understand  American?"  Then,  in  a  louder 
tone:  "I  say,  have  any  of  you  dum  fools  seen  the 
Cap'n  ?  Don't  ye  know  anything  in  this  'ere  country  ?" 
Finally,  still  louder :  "Have  any  of  you  durned  niggers 
seen  the  Cap'n?" 

It  was  Brown  searching  for  his  employer,  and  trying 
by  strength  of  his  lungs  to  make  up  for  lack  of  knowl 
edge  in  his  hearers. 

"Brown !  Brown !"  yelled  Farquharson.  "Come  here 
quick!" 

"Where  be  ye,  Cap'?"  from  the  delighted  Brown. 

"Here !    Up  the  stairs  !    Quick !" 

Finding  the  stairs  was  not  a  difficult  matter,  and  up 
came  Brown,  three  steps  at  a  time,  shouting  again: 
"Where  be  ye,  Cap'?" 

The  light  through  a  begrimed  window  showed  the 
helpless  Englishman  on  the  landing. 

"Well,  I   swanny!"  wondered  Brown. 

"Get  me  to  the  street.  Be  quick !  The  Indians  will 
come." 

Fear  of  Yoscolo  gave  spirit  to  the  aborigines.  They 
rushed  down  the  stairs,  one  of  them  holding  the  lantern 
which  they  had  taken  time  to  refill  and  light.  "Hands 
up !"  they  commanded  in  Spanish,  presenting  their 
weapons.  "Hands  up !  or  we'll  shoot." 

Brown  seized  one  of  the  men  by  waist  and  neck  and 
hurled  him  at  the  other.  "O,  talk  United  States !"  he 
shouted. 

The  Indians  fell  headlong.  Brown  lifted  the  Captain 
to  his  shoulder  and  flew  down  the  stairs.  Several  pistol 


124    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

shots  missed  aim,  but  no  pursuit  was  attempted. 
Brown's  performance  probably  looked  like  more  "big 
medicine"  to  the  Indians. 

Soon  the  rescuer  and  his  burden  were  outside. 

"I've  carried  many  a  pig,  Cap',  but  never  down  so 
many  stairs  to  wunst.  Where  be  ye  hurt?" 

"I'm  better  now.    I  think  I  can  walk  if  you  help  me." 

Brown  assisted  him  along  the  way. 

"Where  were  ye,  Cap'?  As  near  as  I  can  jedge 
they're  searchin'  the  whole  country  for  ye." 

"The  men  you  saw  were  holding  me  captive." 

"Well,  I  swanny!"  from  the  disgusted  serving-man. 
"Held  by  a  pack  o'  niggers !  I  never  could  stand  much 
of  that  sort  o'  thing  myself  from  sech  critters." 

Directly  they  were  away  from  danger,  with  the  life 
of  Monterey  flowing  smoothly  around  them. 


CHAPTER  IX 

SENORA   VALENTINO    SEEKS    TO    INTEREST 
PADRE  OSUNA 

r  1 1  HE  courtyard  of  Senor  Mendoza's  hacienda  house 
A  was  glorious  in  light.  Patterns  of  Oriental  net 
work  were  reflected  from  lanterns  clustered  along  the 
eaves,  strung  on  improvised  archways,  or  undulating 
from  the  lofty  flagpole.  Genial  spring  rejoiced  every 
where,  no  less  in  rare  exotic  floating  in  miniature  lakes 
than  in  the  countless  blooming  flower  species  that  were 
at  home  in  this  Eden-land.  The  soft  air  breathed  con 
tent  as  it  moved  in  low  voice  around  giant  palm  and 
high-branching  walnut.  As  the  evening  waxed  the 
zephyr  became  a  whisper,  then  sank  to  sleep  on  the  fairy 
scene  with  a  sigh  as  faint  as  the  rustle  of  a  leaf. 

The  courtyard  gate  lay  open  wide.  Many  of  the 
fairest  and  of  the  bravest  in  California  were  to  pass 
within  after  the  day  had  ceased,  to  fare  forth  against 
the  rebirth  of  another  sun.  Mendoza's  welcome  to  the 
late-coming  rains  took  the  form  of  pleasure-making  for 
the  gentry  of  the  countryside.  Neither  thought,  nor 
labor,  nor  expense  had  been  spared  that  this  might  be 
a  festal  night  long  remembered  in  Alta  California. 

The  lord  of  the  manor  sat  in  his  private  library. 

"A  visitor,  Senor  Mendoza,"  announced  a  peon. 

"It  is  who?" 

125 


126    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"The  Padre  Lusciano  Osuna." 

"Show  him  here.  No — wait.  I'll  attend  him  from 
the  front  myself." 

A  moment  later  the  sefior  was  at  the  padre's  side. 
"Welcome,  reverend  sir.  This  house  is  happy  that  your 
feet  press  its  threshold."  Mendoza  bowed  in  Castilian 
grace,  then  extended  his  hand  to  the  priest,  who  ac 
cepted  it  in  courteous  grasp. 

"And  you  are  well,  Padre?" 

"Good  health  blesses  me,  Senor  Mendoza.  How  makes 
it  with  you?" 

"Well.  Very  well,  indeed.  Come  with  me,  Sefior 
Padre." 

"I  thank  you." 

"Padre  Osuna,"  as  they  sat  together  shortly  after, 
"it  pleases  me  that  opportunity  comes  to  thank  you 
for  sending  your  major-domo,  Juan  Antonio,  that 
night  the  storm  broke,  to  trace  my  daughter  and  her 
duena.  I  have  sought  you  each  day  since,  only  to  find 
you  were  still  in  Santa  Cruz.  A  father's  heart  thanks 
you,  sir." 

"A  pastor's  solicitude  for  one  of  his  flock  deserves 
not  thanks,  Sefior  Mendoza." 

"May  I  ask,  reverend  sir,  why  you  brought  so  strong 
a  fighting  force  to  meet  us  that  night?  Juan  Antonio 
told  me  it  was  your  order,  but  held  his  counsel  further," 

"He  knew  nothing  more.  Early  that  afternoon  there 
came  a  peon,  fugitive  from  the  renegade  camp.  After 
much  hesitation,  so  greatly  are  Yoscolo  and  Stanislaus 
feared  by  the  Indians,  he  told  me  he  had  seen  the  two 
leaders  traveling,  no  men  with  them,  in  the  direction  of 


SENORA  VALENTINO  127 

your  meriehda  ground.  I  cautioned  him  to  silence  lest 
panic  sweep  over  the  Mission.  Marshaling  bowmen  and 
carbineers,  I  mounted  horse  to  come  to  your  aid,  should 
the  miscreants  gather  force  and  give  any  trouble.  Thus 
I  rode  to  you  in  the  thunderstorm,  having  dispatched 
couriers  posthaste  to  the  pueblo  for  further  aid  from 
the  soldiery  there." 

"The  pueblo  soldiers  were  already  scouring  the  Los 
Gatos  hills  near  Santa  Cruz  for  the  ubiquitous  Indian 
leaders,"  said  Senor  Mendoza,  "word  having  come  in 
from  that  region  that  an  attack  was  imminent.  A  mes 
senger  from  the  pueblo  met  us  in  the  foothills  not  long 
before  you  came.  With  him  rode  away  Captain  Mo- 
rando,  to  join  his  men  and  their  lieutenant,  my  fighting 
peons  accompanying  him.  We  rested  our  horses.  A 
rapid  count  of  carretas  by  lantern  light  discovered  the 
absence  of  my  daughter  and  the  senora  duena.  At  that 
moment  you  came,  reverend  padre." 

The  priest  bowed.  "I  greatly  regret  that  a  sudden 
recurrence  of  illness  prevented  me  from  going  farther 
with  you  that  night.  I  tarried  home  till  Juan  Antonio 
came  through  the  driving  rain  with  news  of  the  lost 
ones'  safety.  Strength  soon  returning,  I  went  on  my 
way  to  Santa  Clara  and  farther." 

"You  set  out  at  midnight,  in  the  howling  storm?" 

"Yes,  Senor  Mendoza.     Duty  called  me." 

"That  is  the  reply  of  a  soldier,  Padre  Osuna." 

*I  am  a  soldier  of  the  cross,  senor." 

"Well  said!     Well  said!     good  sir." 

"Allow  me  to  explain,  senor,  why  I  have  thus  come  to 
you  when  you  are  about  to  open  your  festivities.  Less 


128    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

than  an  hour  ago  I  returned  from  my  journey.  A  mes 
senger  from  Monterey  was  at  the  Mission  bearing  writ 
ten  words  from  the  representative  of  England  there. 
The  message  stated  that  an  English  citizen  disappeared 
two  days  ago  in  the  capital  city.  He  left  the  home  of 
Colonel  Barcelo  that  afternoon  and  no  one  has  seen  him 
since.  Much  anxiety  is  felt  over  his  absence." 

A  peon  appeared  in  the  doorway.  "Colonel  Barcelo 
and  lady,  with  Senora  Valentino,  await  you,  Senor 
Mendoza.  The  Colonel  asks  a  moment's  private  inter 
view." 

"Excuse  me  for  a  short  time,  reverend  padre?" 

Before  Mendoza  could  depart  the  Colonel  came  bust 
ling  in. 

"Heard  your  voice,  my  friend,  and  couldn't  stand  on 
ceremony.  Have  you  received  the  news?  Most  inter 
esting  it  is.  Well,  the  governor  has  resigned  and 
I  am  made  acting-governor  of  the  province  pending  the 
new  appointment.  The  former  governor  is  still  in 
Mexico  City.  Fussy  old  curmudgeon  he  is.  Should 
have  resigned  years  ago.  What  I  want  to  know,  Senor 
Mendoza,  is,  are  you  laying  plans  to  capture  the  office? 
If  you  are  not,  I  am  sure  of  getting  it,  as  sure  of  it  as 
if  it  was  in  my  pocket  here,"  tapping  his  breast-pocket 
vigorously.  "What  say  you,  Mendoza?"  slapping  the 
senor's  shoulder  with  heavy  palm. 

"I  have  pledged  myself  to  remain  administrator 
while  the  need  lasts,"  replied  Mendoza,  glancing  at  the 
friar.  "The  need  yet  exists,  and  I  cannot  hold  two 
offices." 

"Splendid!  Splendid!"  exulted  Barcelo.   "I'll  take  my 


SENORA  VALENTINO  129 

chances  against  the  other  aspirants,  and  you  may  be 
assured  there  will  be  enough  of  them." 

The  Padre  Lusciano  Osuna  had  arisen.  The  exuber 
ant  Colonel  now  noticed  him  for  the  first  time. 

"Reverend  sir,  my  obeisance!  Kindly  do  not  repeat 
what  I  have  said  of  my  political  hopes." 

Osuna  bowed  and  smiled.    "As  you  wish,  sir." 

At  that  moment  Senora  Barcelo  and  his  sister  en 
tered. 

"My  husband  is  irrepressible.  He  actually  bubbles 
over  like  a  mineral  spring.  He  requests  a  private  in 
terview,  then  shouts  his  secrets  from  the  housetops. 
Reverend  padre,  I'm  delighted  to  see  you  well  again. 
Delighted!  How  pleasant  to  meet  you  on  such  an  oc 
casion  as  this!  Reverend  Padre  Osuna,  my  sister, 
Senora  Valentino,  very  lately  from  Spain.  She  was  with 
us  the  night  you  led  those  men  to  us  in  the  rain.  No 
time  for  introductions  then,  of  course.  Ugh !  what  an 
experience !" 

The  friar  and  Senora  Valentino  acknowledged  the  in 
troduction. 

"Yes,  yes,  Senor  Padre,"  exclaimed  Barcelo,  "what 
rag-and-bobtail  followed  you  that  night!  But  it's  the 
way  with  Indians.  They  run  as  children  after  anything 
that  promises  excitement.  How  like  wet-dogs-on-horse- 
back  they  looked.  Poor  Mendoza  here  quite  lost  his 
head  when  his  daughter's  carreta  turned  up  missing. 
Lucky  I  was  there.  Why,  just  send  your  Indians  back- 
trail  in  such  a  case  and  they  can  find  anything." 

The  Colonel  looked  around  in  a  self-satisfied  way. 

"Why,  husband,"   said   Senora   Barcelo,   "how  you 


130    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

do  talk !  As  I  say,  you  are  so  irrepressible !  It  always 
seems  you  are  nowhere  but  just  in  the  front  of  every 
thing." 

"Quite  the  place  for  a  soldier,  senora,  quite  the 
place." 

Here  Mendoza  interposed.  "Senoras  and  senors, 
will  you  not  be  seated?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  Barcelo.    "Certainly." 

"Colonel  Barcelo,  may  I  ask  you  if  anything  has  been 
heard  of  the  Englishman  who  two  days  ago  disappeared 
in  Monterey  City?"  said  Senor  Mendoza. 

"Ha !  ha !  ha !"  laughed  the  stentorian  Colonel. 
"Why,  ha !  ha !  ha  !  I  should  say  something  has  been 
heard  of  the  fellow.  He  walked  into  my  house  half  an 
hour  before  I  left  with  some  cock-and-bull  story  of 
having  been  kidnaped.  Kidnaped  !  Ha !  ha !  ha !  Good !" 

The  Colonel  arose  and  stood  before  the  others.  "Let 
me  give  you  my  theory  of  the  affair,"  self-complacency 
shining  on  his  rotund  face. 

"Husband,  some  other  time.  The  guests  are  surely 
arriving  and  Senor  Mendoza  wishes  to  be  occupied  with 
them." 

"Patience,  good  wife,  patience.  My  dear,  if  you  have 
a  fault  in  the  world  it  is  that  you  talk  too  much. 
Now — let  me  see  where  was  I  when  interrupted.  O, 
yes !  The  Englishman's  disappearance.  The  explana 
tion  is  a  simple  one." 

The  Colonel  looked  meaningly  at  his  auditors.  "Just 
too  much  aguardiente — native  brandy.  It's  most  de 
ceptive  stuff  for  a  new  beginner.  I  once  had  the  same 
experience  in  Paris  with  absinthe." 


SENORA  VALENTINO  131 

"Why,  Crisostimo,  you  never  told  me!  How  dare 
you  speak  of  such  a  thing?"  Senora  Barcelo  bridling. 

"It  was  nothing,  Clarinda,  nothing,  my  love.  Merely 
something  that  might  happen  to  anyone — anyone  of 
investigating  mind,  I  mean,  of  course.  Well,  this 
Englishman " 

"O,  Crisostimo,  when  were  you  in  Paris  and  drank 
so  much  absinthe?  It's  simply  disgraceful  how  we  poor 
women  are  deceived.  I'm  going  home  to  my  uncle  in 
Spain." 

"It  was  years  ago,  my  love,  years  ago,  long  before  I 
met  you.  I  was  a  lieutenant  then  in  the  Spanish  army. 
Well,  we  were  speaking  of  the  affair  in  Monterey.  I 
say " 

"The  less  you  say  the  better,"  from  his  wife,  tartly. 

"My  dear,  how  can  you  fill  the  position  of  governor's 
wife  if  you  possess  such  small  pride !" 

The  words  had  magic  effect.  The  senora  mopped  her 
eyes  with  a  dainty  lace  kerchief,  and  in  a  moment  was 
all  smiles.  Her  husband  almost  swaggered  with  sup 
pressed  importance. 

"This  Englishman  was  simply  drunk.  Let  me  tell  you 
the  whole  case,"  this  time  without  interruption.  "The 
man  called  on  my  sister-in-law,  Senora  Valentino,  a  very 
young  woman,  as  you  see." 

Senora  Valentino  lowered  her  eyes  in  appropriate 
recognition  for  the  remark. 

"I  mean  she  is  inexperienced  in  the  world's  ways,  has 
always  been  protected,  led  a  sheltered  life,  and  all  that. 
Well,  this  man  she  met  occasionally  in  London  some 
time  ago  called  on  her  at  my  house  in  Monterey.  The 


132    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

fellow  was  simply  drunk,  and  this  poor  lady,  in  her 
simplicity,  could  see  nothing  of  it.  Why,  the  house 
guardian  met  him  at  my  front  door,  and  he  began  talk 
ing  nonsense  about  kings  and  so  on.  Think  of  this !  to 
a  stranger  too ! 

"Well,  the  fellow  gained  entrance  through  my  sister- 
in-law.  Seems  to  have  behaved  while  within.  Soon  came 
a  crony,  some  old  pot-fellow,  on  a  mock  errand,  and 
away  went  the  two  to  carouse  again.  Then,  the  Eng 
lishman  was  lost.  A  hue  and  cry  was  raised.  The 
inefficient  town  police  do  nothing.  Then  I  make  it  a 
military  matter,  and,  behold !  the  lost  one  comes  walking 
to  my  house  with  a  ready  story  to  tell.  Thus,  the  kid 
naping.  Ha  !  ha !  ha !" 

Barcelo  subsided  into  a  chair  and  looked  around  for 
approving  words. 

"How  penetrating  you  men  of  affairs  are!"  This 
from  Senora  Valentino. 

"As  the  Englishman  has  made  his  appearance  my 
anxiety  concerning  him  is  over,"  remarked  the  padre. 

"Certainly!  Certainly!"  observed  Barcelo.  "No 
cause  for  alarm.  The  man  was  taken  by  drink  and 
cooked  up  a  story  to  suit  the  case." 

"How  clever  the  Colonel,  my  brother-in-law,  is!" 
again  from  Senora  Valentino. 

"With  his  work  as  comandante  and  the  added  duties 
of  acting-governor,  I  cannot  see  how  he  will  have  time 
to  turn,"  said  his  wife,  admiringly. 

The  friar  laughed  gently,  Mendoza,  more  loudly. 

"From  the  viewpoint  of  a  simple  mission-administra 
tor  I  can  appreciate  what  such  double  work  must  mean. 


SENORA  VALENTINO 

I  trust  the  Englishman  will  be  more  wary  in  the  future 
against  kidnapers,  that  you  may  not  be  further  bur 
dened  from  that  quarter  at  least." 

Barcelo  winked  knowingly.  "Brandy  overnight 
usually  leaves  headache  in  the  morning.  The  man  must 
be  a  seasoned  drunkard,  for  when  I  saw  him  there  was 
no  sign  of  his  debauch.  Of  course  he  has  now  learned 
the  strength  of  our  native  product,  and  I  hope  will 
govern  himself  accordingly." 

The  serving  peons  with  respectful  insistence  were 
knocking  at  the  door.  The  guests  were  coming  in 
numbers. 

The  Senora  Mendoza  came  into  the  room,  curtsied 
to  the  company,  then  said  to  her  father,  "Papacito, 
many  seek  thee." 

"Yes,  yes,  my  child." 

"The  child  is  right,"  said  Barcelo.  "Sefior  Mendoza, 
your  place  is  with  your  arriving  company.  Come, 
senoras,  let  us  forth  to  the  grounds.  It  is  known  that 
I  am  here.  Many  will  be  looking  for  me."  Then  in  a 
confidential  aside  to  Mendoza :  "Will  you  write  a  letter 
to  the  secretary  of  state  in  Mexico  City  setting  forth 
my  qualifications  for  the  governorship?  State  what 
you  know  for  and  against,"  with  an  air  of  great  frank 
ness. 

"I'll  do  as  you  ask,  Colonel."  Turning  to  the  friar: 
"Now,  Sefior  Padre,  we  will  resume.  The  guests  will 
be  well  attended  without  my  ministrations  for  the  pres 
ent" 

Padre  Osuna  placed  a  small  package  in  his  hand. 
"This  is  the  Jesuit  bark  you  brought  me  in  my  recent 


134    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

illness.  I  could  not  accept  it  from  you  as  Administra 
tor  Mendoza,  highly  as  I  esteem  the  qualities  of  charac 
ter  which  led  you  to  bring  it  to  me.  From  Senor  Men 
doza  I  should  have  greatly  valued  the  favor." 

The  other  bowed  understandingly.  "Still  I  cannot 
separate  Senor  Mendoza  from  Administrator  Men 
doza." 

"Let  it  then  be  so.  Adios,  Senor  Mendoza,"  and  the 
friar  stepped  into  the  corridor. 

Everywhere  was  the  hum  of  voices  and  echoes  of 
laughter.  Bursts  of  music  sounded  from  various  parts 
of  the  house  or  grounds  where  musicians  had  been  sta 
tioned. 

Many  salutations  from  the  California  gentry  met  the 
priest  as  he  passed  along.  Just  outside  the  outer  gate 
a  hand  was  laid  softly  on  his  arm. 

"May  I. have  a  few  words  with  Padre  Osuna?" 

It  was  the  Senora  Valentino.  The  light  made  splendid 
play  on  her  gown  and  jewels.  The  woman  was  young 
and  fair,  as  well  as  exquisitely  clad,  but  all  this  seemed 
to  be  put  away  as  she  stood  beside  the  dull-robed  friar. 

"Certainly,  Senora  Valentino.  If  you  thus  request, 
my  time  is  at  your  disposal." 

"Here  is  a  bench  near  the  gatekeeper's  lodge.  Will 
you  sit  here  awhile,  reverend  father  ?" 

The  padre  seated  himself  by  the  woman's  side. 

"Perhaps  I  should  yet  further  introduce  myself  to 
you.  My  husband,  the  late  Colonel  Clodio  Valentino, 
was  cousin-german  to  your  mother,  daughter  of  Am 
bassador  Altamira,  of  Castile." 

The  friar  looked  keenly  at  his  companion.     "I  have 


SENORA  VALENTINO  135 

not  seen  my  mother  in  ten  years.  She  spoke  often  of 
Clodio  Valentino,  colonel  of  the  Royal  Hussars,  and 
of  his  wife.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  lady  must  be  much 
older  than  you,  senora." 

"I  am  the  Colonel's  second  wife.  We  w^re  married 
seven  years  ago." 

"I  see." 

"Padre  Osuna,  you  can  be  of  wonderful  service  to  the 
great  kingdom  of  which  you  are  a  citizen.  In  so  doing 
you  fulfill  a  duty  to  your  state  and  to  this  province  of 
California." 

"Kindly  explain,  senora." 

"California  is  as  a  ripe  apple  ready  to  drop  into  a 
basket.  It  oscillates  to  and  fro.  Great  Britain  holds 
one  basket;  the  United  States  of  America,  another. 
Russia,  with  a  third  basket,  stands  at  a  distance. 
Mexico  is  the  tree  which  must  lose  the  apple  in  any  case. 
Reverend  padre,  you  have  the  length  and  strength  of 
arm  so  to  shake  the  tree  that  the  Great  Britain  basket 
catches  the  apple." 

"Why  should  I  do  so,  if  I  could?" 

"The  United  States  looks  eagerly  on  this  province. 
That  colossal  nation  reaches  now  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
on  the  south,  and  it  seeks  to  make  the  Pacific  Ocean 
its  boundary  on  the  west.  A  continent-wide  dominion 
is  its  aim." 

"Senora  Valentino,  I  live  secluded  from  the  world, 
and  do  not  wish  to  share  in  its  politics." 

"But  politics  can  affect  the  welfare  of  your  spirit 
ual  children.  Call  to  mind  the  secularization  of  your 
missions  by  the  Mexican  government.  That  was  a  po- 


136    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

litical  act,  yet  it  cut  the  nerve  of  your  Order's  religious 
enterprise  in  this  part  of  the  world.  Is  it  not  so?" 

"I  believe  that  it  is.  Yet  our  Order  once  built  here 
a  Christian  community  from  wandering  savages,  and 
our  heart  has  not  lost  zeal,  nor  our  hand  willingness." 

"I  rejoice  with  you  in  all  that,  reverend  father,  but 
it  was  done  when  the  flag  of  considerate  Spain  waved 
here,  and  the  work  of  the  church  was  deemed  para 
mount.  That  flag  has  departed  forever.  Why  not, 
then,  seek  another  protector  for  Missions  and  for 
province  which  will  make  void  the  inconsiderate  work  of 
Mexico,  and  which  will  not  be  second  to  Spain,  in  good 
endeavor  ?" 

"Senora,  when  rumors  of  change  float  in  the  air  I 
close  the  windows  and  doors  of  my  soul  to  all,  that  I 
may  give  myself  unstinted  to  the  work  among  God's  un 
tutored  children." 

"Why  not  safeguard  the  temporal  and  spiritual 
rights  of  your  Indians?  Ah !  padre,  think  of  India  over 
which  England  is  suzerain.  There  the  amplest  freedom 
is  not  only  allowed  but  guaranteed  to  each  native  cult ; 
neither  does  anyone  hear  of  sequestration  of  church 
property." 

"It  is  the  truth.  English  rule  and  justice  walk  with 
equal  pace  in  India." 

"England  would  not  do  less  in  California  for  our 
church."  In  her  enthusiasm  she  leaned  toward  him, 
her  brown  eyes  flashing.  "Else  comes  the  United 
States.  Her  armed  ships  patrol  our  coast,  sounding, 
always  sounding,  for  deep  and  shallow  water,  though 
the  coastline  of  this  province  was  charted  long  before 


SENORA  VALENTINO  137 

the  United  States  of  America  was  born.  Why  hazard 
the  contingencies  of  American  government,  when  the 
weight  of  her  little  finger,  did  she  so  wish,  could  be 
heavier  than  was  the  whole  hand  of  Mexico?  I,  as  a 
child  of  the  church,  ask  you  this.  From  my  present 
home  in  an  official  family  in  Monterey  I  can  read  the 
signs  of  the  time.  Padre  Osuna,  we  must  act,  and 
quickly." 

"Another  has  spoken  to  me  somewhat  of  this." 

"That  other  was  Captain  Farquharson?     No?" 

The  padre  did  not  reply. 

"The  Captain  seeks  to  bring  California  from  unsatis 
factory  Mexico  to  stable  and  safe  England.  Senor 
Padre,  for  the  good  of  souls,  the  souls  of  the  Indians 
you  love,  help  him !" 

The  Franciscan  sprang  to  his  feet,  his  figure  erect 
and  his  face  radiant. 

"But,  Misericordia !  what  can  I  do!"  sinking  back 
into  his  seat. 

"Ah,  humble  friar !  You  have  the  power  of  a  Savo 
narola  who  threw  the  wicked,  bloody  city  of  Florence 
to  her  praying  knees.  Have  I  not  heard  you  in  the 
cathedral  in  Seville,  and  again  in  Barcelona?  Did  not 
the  soldiers  draw  strong  cordons  at  the  great  cathedral 
in  Madrid  when  you  spoke  there,  lest  the  surging  crowd 
crush  themselves  at  the  entrance?  Ah,  mighty  one! 
speak  to  the  people  of  this  province,  tell  them  of  Eng 
land  and  of  her  benevolent  sway.  Lift  your  voice  for 
your  country's  good.  Instruct  and  persuade,  as  you 
alone  can,  priest  of  the  golden  tongue !  Then,  listen, 
and  from  your  hearers  will  come  cheers  for  the  mistress 


138    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

of  the  seas  and  her  kindly  rule.  If  you  are  silent,  your 
church  and  your  state  lose  much  because  a  man  marvel- 
ously  gifted  failed  in  manifest  duty." 

"I  hold  the  call  of  duty  supreme." 

"You  used  that  as  a  text  for  one  of  your  sermons  in 
Seville." 

"Why  do  you  connect  me  with  that  preacher  in  the 
cathedrals?" 

"Because  you  are  the  same  man,  though  you  now 
wear  a  beard  and  write  but  a  portion  of  your  former 
name." 

"Senora  Valentino,  that  I  am  here  under  my  present 
name  is  approved  by  my  conscience  and  by  my  su 
periors." 

"I  doubt  not,  good  padre." 

The  priest  looked  fixedly  at  the  flag  gently  waving 
high  above  their  heads. 

"Padre,  the  good  of  souls!  The  welfare  of  your 
Order !  Your  Indian  wards !" 

"I  know — I  know." 

They  arose. 

He  saluted  and  turned  to  go.  Then  he  hesitated. 
"My  will  is  that  of  my  superior." 

He  walked  away  a  few  steps,  paused,  and  stood  facing 
her,  with : 

"•'Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid 
them  not.'  My  children  of  the  wilderness  cry  unto 
me — unto  me." 

Making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  he  continued  slowly 
down  the  road. 

The  joy  of  triumph  shone  in  the  senora's  smile. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   BALL   AT   SENOR 
MENDOZA'S  HACIENDA  HOUSE 

IF  taste  and  industry  had  been  used  in  decorating  the 
exterior  of  Sefior  Mendoza's  mansion  for  the  great 
ballroom  function,  the  interior  gave  evidence  of  no  lack 
of  these  same  qualities. 

The  artistic  spirit  of  the  Latin  is  to  the  manner  born, 
and  the  early  Californian  developed  his  inheritance  by 
daily  communings  with  the  beauties  of  earth,  and  air, 
and  sky.  Mendoza,  moreover,  had  seen  the  wonder 
spots  from  Paris  to  Madrid  and  Vienna ;  and  the  fruits 
of  his  experience  had  ripened  and  mellowed  in  the  years 
of  wealth  and  leisure  he  had  spent  on  his  estate  at 
Mission  San  Jose. 

For  smaller  parties  he  had  reception  room,  dining 
room  and  dancing  hall  finished  in  the  oak  that  his  own 
forests  furnished,  peons  having  skillfully  hewed  the 
wood,  then,  under  the  master's  directions,  polishing  the 
grain  until  the  markings  stood  out  prominently. 

It  was  the  ballroom  used  for  the  baile — large  party — 
that  showed  the  resource  of  California  and  the  clever 
ness  of  Mendoza  at  the  best.  This  room,  reaching  the 
length  of  one  side  of  the  house,  was  built  in  redwood, 
of  which  California  is  sole  producer. 

139 


140    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Mammoth  trees,  grown  on  the  mountains  near  Santa 
Cruz,  had  been  felled  and  split  from  end  to  end.  The 
exposed  sections  were  trimmed  and  smoothed,  showing, 
in  many  a  curious  layer  of  etching,  the  centuries  these 
monarchs  had  lived.  Oxen  by  the  score  and  Indians  by 
the  hundreds  had  been  engaged  for  months  in  bringing 
to  Mission  San  Jose  these  timbers  which,  placed  side  by 
side,  made  the  walls  and  ceiling  of  the  apartment. 

"Of  the  many  wood  grains,"  Mendoza  often  said,  "I 
prefer  the  redwood  for  broad  effects.  The  convolutions 
run  in  ampler  curve  and  build  themselves  readily  into 
large  dimensions." 

The  room  was  looking  its  best  to-night.  Chandeliers, 
fed  by  sperm-oil,  gave  subdued  light  through  delicately 
tinted  shades.  Candles  branched  from  the  walls,  play 
ing  their  softened  brightness  everywhere.  The  reddish 
wood  glistened  and  showed  in  strong  relief  the  story  of 
its  years. 

In  the  corners  were  grouped  potted  plants  and  flow 
ers  and  shrubs.  Radiant  bougainvilleas  and  flaunting 
hibiscus  were  side  by  side  with  delicate  maidenhair  ferns 
modestly  featuring  the  mossy  rocks  on  which  they  first 
saw  life. 

Rare  orchids  from  Japan,  grown  robust  in  the  kind 
lier  air  of  California,  strove  to  surpass  in  beauty  their 
indigenous  relatives.  Poinsettias,  vivid  in  their  tintings, 
stood  unabashed  with  the  modest  lily  of  the  valley  and 
the  shrinking  violet.  The  California  poppy,  lover  of 
both  hill  and  lowland,  drooped  its  head  and  half  folded 
its  petals,  diffident  in  the  presence  of  the  grandees  of 
the  floral  kingdom. 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  BALL 

The  guests  had  not  yet  come  into  the  ballroom.  The 
reception  rooms,  dressing  rooms,  and  the  wide  grounds 
still  held  them.  The  senoritas,  with  hair  flowing  over 
their  shoulders,  and  clad  in  silken  skirt  and  train,  with 
bodice,  also  silken,  close-fitting  and  high-necked,  were 
not  yet  ready  for  the  dance.  The  senoras,  near  their 
charges,  were  chatting  away  the  time. 

The  men  strolled  about  smoking  their  cigaritos,  pass 
ing  a  word  here,  a  jest  there,  until  the  music  should  call 
them.  Their  dress  was  that  of  the  Spanish  cavalier  of 
the  time.  From  their  shoulders  fell  the  poncho — long 
cape — made  of  beaver  from  Peru.  Later  in  the  evening 
this  garment  would  be  removed,  showing  old  and  young 
in  velvet  knee-pants,  deer-skin  leggins  beautifully 
stamped  and  broidered,  and  with  shoes  of  polished 
leather  held  by  golden  clasps. 

The  coat,  likewise  of  imported  beaver,  reached  only 
to  the  girth,  and  was  ornamented  on  arms  and  shoulders 
with  silver  and  gold  thread. 

Around  their  waists  were  draped  bright-colored  silken 
sashes,  the  ends  long  and  sweeping.  A  white  linen  shirt, 
elaborately  fluted  and  sparkling  with  diamonds,  com 
pleted  their  evening  dress.  Men  and  women  were  lavish 
in  their  display  of  jewels. 

Glorious,  splendid  California  was  worthily  repre 
sented  by  her  sons  and  daughters  the  night  of  Sefior 
Mendoza's  fiesta. 

In  the  garden  a  young  man  in  the  uniform  of  an  army 
officer  was  speaking  with  a  girl. 

"Senorita  Dona  Carmelita,  a  dance  with  you  on  the 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

ballroom  floor;  another  sit  I  with  you  in  the  open.  Is 
it  not  so?" 

"Senor,  the  Captain  Morando,  I  promised  you  a 
mazurka,  nothing  more." 

"Truly,  senorita',  but  when  sitting  one  finds  words  to 
speak  the  thoughts  that  rise  in  the  heart  while  flying 
feet  are  pursuing  the  spirit  of  the  dance." 

"As  hostess  I  may  not  deny  the  petition  of  a  guest." 

"O,  Senorita  Dona!  I  speak  not  as  a  guest  to  a  hos 
tess.  I  am  at  your  feet  ever,  as  a  subject  to  a  queen. 
May  I  not  pay  a  vassal's  homage  to  you?  With  many 
caballeros  you  tread  the  dance,  never  granting  further 
favor.  May  I  not  be  the  exception?" 

The  senorita  and  the  Captain  were  standing  under  a 
big  palm.  Seeing  her  cross  the  courtyard  he  had  has 
tened  to  intercept  her. 

She  drew  away. 

"Since  the  Senor  Captain  frees  me  from  my  obliga 
tion  as  hostess  I  will  tell  him  he  is  well  stocked  in  pre 
sumption." 

In  a  moment  the  shadows  lost  the  girl. 

The  young  man  was  disconsolate.  He  buckled  his 
sword-belt  tightly,  then  loosened  it.  Pulling  his  laced 
cap  lower  on  his  forehead  he  moved  aimlessly  about. 

A  laugh  called  him  to  himself.  In  the  semilight  near 
the  ballroom  entrance  stood  the  Senorita  Mendoza. 
Michief  sparkled  in  her  eyes. 

"Senor  the  Captain,  are  you  playing  blind-man's- 
buff  with  yourself?" 

"O,  senorita  mia,  only  a  game  of  solitaire." 

"A  game  of  solitaire!"  rippled  Carmelita.     "What 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  BALL        143 

a  diversion  for  a  ball!  Serior  Comandante,  it  is  not 
permitted  here." 

A  bevy  of  laughing  young  women  came  to  the  door. 

"Lucinda,  come,  and  Alfreda,  and  all  you  girls," 
called  Carmelita.  "I  have  here  a  caballero  captain  who 
needs  our  attention.  Sefioritas  donas,  come  quickly." 

Directly  they  were  all  fluttering  around  Morando. 

Fathers,  mothers,  and  duenas  paused  in  their  con 
versation. 

"The  soldier  is  captive,"  from  Senora  Morage.  "Let 
us  see  how  the  children  deal  with  him." 

"The  captive  is  little  worried,"  commented  Senor 
Zelaya. 

"As  art  thou,  Pedro,"  said  Higuera.  "Thou  hast 
thirty  years  and  no  wife.  Thy  heart  should  worry 
thee."  " 

The  senoritas  led  the  Captain  into  the  ballroom,  and 
halted  under  one  of  the  chandeliers. 

"Will  the  Captain  have  gifts  of  gold  and  silver? 
Does  the  incense  of  friendship  delight  him?"  asked 
Dona  Carmelita. 

"Pleasant  questions  from  a  fair  questioner,  senorita." 

"Yes  or  no,  Senor  Captain,"  chorused  the  senoritas. 

"Yes,  emphatically." 

A  score  of  eggshells,  filled  with  bits  of  silver  and 
golden  paper,  were  broken  on  his  head  and  uniform. 
Not  until  the  little  baskets,  expeditiously  handed  the 
girls  by  peonas,  were  empty  did  the  bombardment  cease. 

Those  looking  on  laughed  and  applauded. 

"Brava!  Brava!  Captain,"  some  one  cried.  "You 
are  courageous." 


144.    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Yes,  yes,  and  calm  in  this  baptism  of  fire,"  from 
another. 

"To  a  mirror!  Let  Captain  Morando  take  view  of 
the  new  uniform  given  him  by  the  senoritas,"  a  third. 

Young  and  old  sportively  crowded  around  Morando 
and  pushed  him  in  front  of  a  long  glass.  He  was 
spangled  from  head  to  foot  with  white  and  yellow 
sheen,  all  gorgeous  over  the  dark  background  of  his 
uniform. 

"A  speech !  A  speech !  Some  word  of  thanks !"  in 
sisted  the  company. 

Silence  was  not  easily  found  in  that  care-free  gath 
ering.  Finally  Morando  could  be  heard. 

"Senoritas,  and  all  my  friends,  I  am  happy  to  wear 
the  colors  that  speak  of  sunrise.  It  is  a  double  pleas 
ure  to  receive  such  rare  insignia  from  hands  the  fairest 
in  the  land." 

"A  good  word,  Captain !  A  good  word !"  exclaimed 
Abelardo  Peralta.  "Not  all  your  vigils  are  spent  at 
the  shrine  of  war. 

Sefior  Mendoza  entered.  "The  musicians  are  idle. 
Motionless  the  feet  of  senorita  and  caballero.  Why 
no  dancing?" 

"The  goddess  of  wealth  has  listened  to  Captain  Mo 
rando,"  informed  Pedro  Zelaya.  "The  sweet  odor  of 
his  gratefulness  floats  around.  The  rest  of  us  wonder 
and  envy." 

"Captain,  turn  the  tables,"  from  Mendoza.  "Let 
not  the  senoritas  bear  all  before  them."  To  a  peona, 
"Naomi,  bring  more  eggs." 

The  eggs  were  passed  around  by  dainty  basketfuls 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  BALL        145 

to  the  young  men  who  singled  out  their  lady-loves  and 
generously  bespangled  them  with  the  confetti  which, 
moist  from  scented  waters,  clung  where  it  fell. 

The  senoritas,  hair  down  their  backs,  flitted  about 
like  iridescent  butterflies.  Neither  were  they  idle  in  egg- 
breaking.  Demurely  they  would  divert  a  caballero's 
attention,  then  quickly  break  a  shell  on  his  hair,  coat 
or  vest. 

The  men  soon  shone  in  colors  as  resplendent  as  those 
of  the  senoritas. 

Perfume  filled  the  air. 

Mendoza  signaled  the  musicians.  The  opening  notes 
of  the  grand  march  sounded.  The  egg-breaking 
ceased. 

Senor  Mendoza  and  his  daughter  led  the  march. 
Dance  after  dance  followed  in  quick  succession. 

"The  merriment  tempts  not  my  son  of  late,"  said 
Senora  Zelaya.  "He  is  over  in  that  corner  talking  poli 
tics  with  men  a  decade  his  senior.  It  is  politics,  always 
politics,  writh  him  now." 

"Relations  strain  between  Mexico  and  the  United 
States  of  America.  If  there  comes  a  break,  California 
must  be  affected.  Your  son,  Senora  Zelaya,  and  all 
good  Californians,  each  day  are  searching  carefully  the 
political  horizon." 

Colonel  Barcelo  came  to  them  with  heavy  step. 

"I  hear,  Moraga,  you  play  a  clever  hand  at  cribbage. 
I  haven't  met  my  match  at  that  since  I've  been  in  Cali 
fornia.  Come  to  the  card  room  with  me  and  try  this 
thing  out.  What  say?" 

"I'm  at  your  disposal,  Colonel,  but  distrust  comes  to 


146    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

me  when  I  think  of  contesting  my  small  knowledge  of 
the  game  against  your  undoubted  excellence." 

"I'll  tell  you  over  the  cards  of  the  players  I've  bested 
in  Europe.  Let  us  go  now." 

"Colonel  Barcelo,"  from  Sefiora  Moraga,  "are  we 
likely  to  have  war?" 

"Senora,  you  are  not  the  tenth,  nor  even  the 
twentieth,  who  has  come  up  and  asked  me  that  question 
this  evening." 

The  portly  Colonel  extended  his  chest.  "Now,  I  can 
not,  of  course,  speak  of  private  or  official  information. 
No  man,  no  real  man,  you  understand,  in  my  position 
would  do  so.  But  I  will  say  that  the  combined  position 
of  comandante  and  acting  governor-general  gives  me 
rare  opportunities  to  become  acquainted  with  the  exact 
state  of  affairs.  You  understand  me,  of  course, 
senora." 

"Yes,"  rather  faintly  from  Senora  Moraga. 

"Well,  where  was  I  when  interrupted?  O  yes.  This 
question  of  war.  I'll  simply  say  no  force — no  force, 
mind  you — could  ever  take  Monterey,  the  capital.  Our 
swivel  guns  at  the  castle  rake  sea-  and  land-approach. 
We  are  absolutely  impregnable." 

"But  the  rest  of  us — of  the  country  outside  the  capi 
tal?"  again  ventured  Senora  Moraga. 

"No  enemy  of  sense  would  care  a  feather  for  a  coun 
try  if  the  capital  could  not  be  taken.  In  other  words, 
we  are  another  Gibraltar.  Come,  Moraga,  I  always 
make  it  a  practice  to  say  as  little  as  possible  on  these 
subjects  to  the  senoras.  They  are  easily  alarmed.  To 
the  card  room  let  us  go,  Moraga." 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  BALL        147 

The  men  departed. 

"May  I  serve  you  a  mint  lemonade  ?"  asked  Morando 
of  Carmelita  when  the  music  had  stopped. 

She  was  willing. 

A  peon  brought  the  refreshing  drink. 

He  bent  over  the  girl,  carefully  anticipating  her  each 
want. 

"Senorita  Dona,  the  sugar?  and  more  lemon  juice? 
Good !  Now  a  spoon." 

"Forget  not  yourself,  Senor  Comandante." 

Soon  he  too  was  served. 

"Senorita  Dona,  may  I  speak  to  you?  I  cannot  re 
frain." 

She  smiled  at  him  over  the  edge  of  her  glass.  "It 
seems  to  me  you  have  been  speaking  to  me  for  some 
time.  The  thoughts  are  bubbling  up  which  the  dance 
set  free,  as  you  said  in  the  garden  a  while  ago.  Is  it 
not  so?"  She  laughed. 

The  Captain  signaled  a  passing  peona  who  removed 
the  emptied  goblets. 

"Senorita  Carmelita,  pray  take  my  words  seriously. 
I  think  of  you,  and  I  dream  of  you.  Your  image  is  en 
shrined  in  my  heart.  Before  it  I  do  homage.  O, 
Senorita  Dona,  I  offer  you  the  best  devotion  of  a  sol 
dier  whose  greatest  hope  is  to  love  and  to  cherish  you, 
and  to  make  you  happy.  Will  you  not  listen?" 

She  blushed  and  her  hands  trembled  slightly. 

"Speak  to  me,  Dona.  Bid  me  hope,  even  ever  so  little. 
The  endeavor  of  my  life  shall  be  to  become  worthy  of 
you.  Will  you  not  say  there  is  hope  for  me?" 

Intensity  blazed  in  the  eyes  of  the  handsome  soldier, 


148    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

and  gave  resonance  to  his  voice.  He  took  the  girl's 
hand.  She  but  half  resisted. 

The  settee  which  they  occupied  was  partly  screened 
by  palms  from  the  rest  of  the  ballroom.  A  bevy  of 
senoritas,  passing  through  during  the  intermission,  ex 
changed  knowing  glances  as  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
two,  and  went  on.  The  man  and  woman  did  not  notice 
them. 

"O,  Carmelita,  will  you  not  answer  me  when  I  say 
I  love  you?  and  tell  me  in  return  that  you  love  me? 
Will  you  not,  Carmelita  mia?" 

She  did  not  try  to  withdraw  her  hand.  Her  eyelids 
drooped,  and  the  color  of  the  rose  swam  anew  in  her 
cheeks. 

"O,  Carmelita,  beloved  of  my  heart,  say  you  love  me," 
rapturously. 

"Sorry  to  interrupt  you,  but  music  for  the  waltz  has 
begun,  and  I  have  the  honor  to  be  your  partner." 

It  was  Patricio  Martinez,  who  bore  Carmelita  away 
with  him  to  the  waiting  dance. 

Morando  spoke  in  a  low  tone  to  her:  "I'll  see  you 
again  presently.  May  I  not?" 

It  was  not  easy  for  him  to  see  her  again  soon. 
The  young  gallants  crowded  around  her  begging  for 
dances,  or  pressing  their  favors  on  her  during  the  rest 
times. 

Morando  danced  several  times,  then  left  the  ballroom 
and  wandered  through  the  reception  rooms,  joining  a 
group  of  men  who  were  discussing  the  possibilities  of 
wheat-raising  in  the  Santa  Clara  Valley ;  then,  another 
coterie  who  debated  the  relative  merits  of  Alta  Califor- 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  BALL        149 

nia  and  Baja  California.  Finally,  he  became  one  of  a 
company  gathered  around  Senora  Valentino. 

"We  change  location,  but  not  scenes,"  she  said  to 
him.  "One  might  well  fancy  himself  in  Madrid  to-night 
instead  of  Mission  San  Jose." 

"It  is  so,  senora." 

After  a  little  Morando  continued  wandering,  until  he 
came  to  the  conservatory  where  he  sat  down. 

"I'll  remain  here  till  Carmelita  is  disengaged,"  was  his 
thought.  "She  almost  listened  to  me.  If  she  accepts 
me,  I'll  be  the  happiest  man  in  the  world." 

He  spoke  half  aloud. 

"Your  voice,  Seilor  Capitan,  tells  me  you  are  here. 
Otherwise,  I  might  have  missed  you.  What  a  cozy 
retreat  you  have  amid  these  branching  ferns !" 

It  was  Senora  Valentino. 

The  Captain's  full  height  bowed  to  the  lady. 

"Will  you  not  be  seated,  senora?  Pardon  me  for  not 
seeing  you  sooner." 

"The  pardon  is  yours.  Will  you  not,  also,  be  seated?" 
making  room  for  him  at  her  side. 

"I  thank  you.  The  favor  of  your  company  honors 
me  greatly." 

The  senora  inclined  her  head.  The  gems  in  her  hair 
gleamed  responsively  to  the  bright  lights.  The  white 
silk  of  her  gown  lay  softly  against  the  vivid  green  of  the 
ferns. 

"Senor  Capitan,  I  am  impelled  to  come  and  talk  with 
you." 

"My  dear  lady,  I  am  honored." 


150    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  wish  to  make  appeal  to  you." 

She  looked  straight  into  the  man's  eyes. 

"Seiiora  Valentino,  if  I  can  do  anything  for  you,  I 
am  thereby  most  happy." 

"Many  thanks,  Senor  Soldier.    I  shall  begin." 

Morando  was  all  attention. 

"Senor  Capitan,  the  traditions,  the  art,  the  faith  of 
Spain  live  very  near  to  my  heart.  They  have  made  old 
Spain  glorious.  The  world's  history  would  be  vastly 
poorer  without  them." 

"Truly,  senora." 

"This  province,  even  now,  is  smiling  under  their  in 
fluence.  The  future  has  splendid  things  in  store  for  us 
here  if  the  heritage  from  across  the  sea  has  way 
unimpeded.  May  there  not  be  another  Castile  beside 
this  Western  coast  only  less  magnificent  than  the 
first?" 

"Senora  Valentino,  you  give  my  own  thoughts." 

"I  rejoice,  Senor  Capitan.  But  on  whom  rests  the 
duty  of  safeguarding  this  heritage?  Is  it  not  on  us,  the 
sons  and  daughters  of  Castile?" 

"Most  unquestionably,  senora." 

"Then,  let  us  exert  ourselves.  Political  unrest  is 
agitating  the  people.  It  is  as  yet  formless,  but  soon  it 
must  flow  in  settled  stream,  for  men's  thoughts,  like 
water,  always  seek  their  level.  Senor  Soldier,  the  part 
of  every  lover  of  Castile  is  plain." 

"Please  say  further,  senora." 

"Mexico  and  California  soon  go  their  separate  ways. 
Is  it  not  so?" 

"I  think  it  is." 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  BALL        151 

"The  world  moves,  Captain  Morando,  and  California 
must  move  with  it.  Whither  do  we  go?" 

Without  waiting  for  reply  she  went  on:  "Public 
opinion  can  be  so  molded  that  it  will  take  us  to  the 
protection  of  either  the  United  States  of  America  or  to 
Great  Britain.  Great  Britain  would  willingly  let  flour 
ish  here  Spanish  ideals.  Read  the  history  of  her  de 
pendencies.  Captain  Morando,  our  obligations  to 
Spain,  to  this  province,  to  ourselves,  demand  that  we 
lead  the  people  to  ask  the  coming  of  the  British  flag." 

"Senora  Valentino,  many  are  speaking  of  these  mat 
ters.  The  necessity  for  some  action  is  forcing  itself. 
But  the  United  States  lies  nearest  us.  Their  govern 
ment  is  republican,  the  same  in  form  as  that  to  which 
the  people  here  are  accustomed." 

"Ah !  Capitan.  I  have  been  in  the  capital  of  the 
United  States  with  my  attache  husband.  Two  years 
ago  what  did  I  hear?  It  was  a  question  of  Texas  com 
ing  into  their  Union.  Even  the  great  ones  said,  'Let 
us  drive  the  Mexicans  and  Spaniards  across  the  Rio 
Grande,  then  to  perdition !'  " 

Morando  did  not  speak. 

"They  would  not  deal  differently  with  us  in  Califor 
nia.  Let  come  the  United  States  and  all  vestige  of 
Spanish  civilization  will  be  obliterated,  and  another 
foreign  to  it  will  be  installed.  Great  Britain  would  be 
our  protector.  Why  chance  the  coming  of  disaster?" 

"Senora,  you  have  thought  wondrously  deep." 

"Why  not  act,  and  act  now?  Public  sentiment  is  in 
pliable  condition.  Who  knows  how  long  it  will  so  con 
tinue?  Do  your  part,  Senor  Soldier,  in  organizing  a 


152    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

general  desire  that  our  province  seek  Great  Britain's 
friendly  arm.  Spanish  chivalry  calls  to  you." 

"You  speak  strongly." 

"Not  more  strongly  than  the  occasion  demands.  The 
welfare  of  this  province,  the  faith  of  our  fathers,  the 
culture  of  centuries,  are  at  stake.  The  United  States 
of  America  is  awake.  That  mighty  nation  has  her 
agents  among  our  people,  persuading  them,  leading 
them,  exhorting  them.  Senor  Soldier,  be  up  and  doing." 

"Senora,  come  what  may,  I  shall  not  fail  this  prov 
ince." 

He  touched  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

"The  splendid  womanhood  .of  California  will  crown 
you  their  knight,  my  soldier." 

They  arose  and  walked  away.  In  the  doorway  they 
paused. 

"For  Castile  and  this  province!"  she  said. 

"By  my  sword  and  glove,  senora  !" 

She  extended  her  hand.    He  met  it  in  firm  grasp. 

The  call  for  supper  had  been  made,  but  they  had  not 
heard. 

The  company  was  around  them. 

"Ah,  Captain!  Ah,  senora!  what  have  we  here?  a 
betrothal?" 

Carmelita  Mendoza,  with  her  father,  was  but  a  pace 
away. 

"Friends,  friends,  to  the  supper  room!"  called  the 
host. 

The  guests  obeyed. 


CHAPTER  XI 
AT  THE  SUPPER 

'"V/TY  friends,  nature  prepares  a  generous  harvest 
1  v  JL  against  the  months  of  winter.  Let  us  enjoy  the 
good  things  at  table  in  anticipation  of  our  share  of  that 
harvest.  Amigos,  to  our  seats !" 

Thus  spoke  Mendoza  to  the  company  assembled  in 
the  dining  hall. 

This  room  was  a  little  smaller  than  the  ballroom,  and 
its  finish  was  of  polished  oak  combined  with  redwood. 
The  tables  ran  nearly  the  length  of  the  apartment. 

The  products  of  Mendoza's  gardens  and  hothouses 
had  been  levied  on  to  furnish  adornment.  Cut  roses 
tumbled  in  profusion  from  vases  arranged  along  the 
middle  of  the  tables,  while  potted  palms  cast  shadows 
from  chandeliers  and  wall-candles.  Ivy  shaped  itself 
into  an  archway  over  the  entrance,  crept  through  the 
foliage  of  house  shrubs  lining  the  walls,  and  inter 
twined  here  and  there  into  bowers  of  ease.  Against  the 
green  vine,  flowers,  rivaling  the  rainbow  in  tints,  sang 
in  color  notes  the  jubilation  of  California's  spring. 

The  people  enjoyed  the  midnight  supper.  The  cool 
ing  air  of  the  courtyard,  the  dance,  the  animated  con 
versation  had  whetted  the  appetites  to  an  edge. 

Finding  place  not  in  any  particular  order,  but  in  the 
153 


154    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

company  their  preference  sought,  as  was  the  way  in 
these  large  gatherings,  the  girls,  with  their  duenas,  and 
the  gallants  were  mostly  at  one  end  of  the  room,  leaving 
the  graver  portion  of  the  assembly  by  itself. 

Senor  Mendoza  was  at  the  head  of  a  table.  At  its 
foot  was  his  daughter.  Near  him  was  the  wisdom  of  the 
valley,  represented  by  the  heads  of  families.  Morando 
wished  to  seat  himself  at  the  senorita's  right  hand,  but 
she  had  already  motioned  Abelardo  Peralta  to  that 
place.  On  her  left  was  Alfreda  Castro. 

The  soldier  found  himself  next  to  young  Peralta,  and 
directly  opposite  Senora  Valentino. 

"I  have  a  budding  magnolia  by  my  plate,"  burst  out 
Lolita  Hernandez.  "My  partner  shall  wear  it  for  a 
button-hole  bouquet.  He  lacks  only  that.  Come,  I'll 
put  it  on  you." 

The  youth  by  her  side  was  nothing  loth. 

"Senorita  Dona,"  spoke  her  duena,  who  was  on  the 
other  side,  "what  can  you  mean?  A  nosegay  so  large 
emulates  the  cabbage.  Why  not  use  this  Castilian  rose? 
Behold,  it  blushes  for  you,"  laughing. 

"Senora  Dona,  even  a  cabbage  in  Senorita  Hernandez's 
hands  would  thereby  become  beautiful,"  from  the  youth. 

"How  easily  young  men's  tongues  frame  compli 
ments  !"  from  the  duena. 

"They  have  worthy  subjects  here,"  from  another 
youth,  waving  his  hand  toward  the  sefioritas. 

The  duena  laughed  again.  "Young  people  are  un 
manageable  these  days,"  she  concluded. 

"Senor  the  Capitan  Morando  did  not  enjoy  the  egg- 
breaking?"  inquired  young  Peralta. 


AT  THE  SUPPER  155 

"We  enjoyed  it,"  laughed  Lolita  without  waiting  for 
Morando's  reply. 

"I  broke  an  egg  on  your  hair,  senorita.  I  see  the  gold 
and  silver  adornment  still,"  rallied  Peralta. 

"I  broke  three  on  your  vest,  Senor  Peralta.  I'm 
sorry  you  could  not  have  preserved  the  pattern,"  re 
turned  Lolita. 

"But  the  Senor  Capitan  and  the  egg-breaking — was 
it  new  to  you?"  continued  Don  Abelardo. 

"It  was  unexpected  to  me  here,  but  not  new,"  from 
Morando.  "Spain  observes  it  on  such  occasions  as 
this." 

"Ask  the  Senor  Capitan  about  heart-breaking," 
laughed  the  ungovernable  Lolita.  "Perhaps  he  has 
practiced  that  too  in  Spain." 

"Senorita  Dona  Hernandez !"  warningly  from  her 
duefia. 

"Well,  I  am  as  curious  to  know  about  that  as  was 
Don  Abelardo  about  egg-breaking." 

"Practice  makes  perfect,  is  that  your  meaning?" 
smiled  Senora  Valentino  at  her. 

"Yes — no.     I  simply  asked  for  information." 

"Is  the  Senorita  Hernandez  still  heart-whole?"  in 
quired  the  soldier.  "If  she  is  not,  it  is  not  the  fault  of 
my  sex,  I  know." 

"Do  you  speak  from  the  fullness  of  experience,  Senor 
Capitan?"  asked  Senorita  Mendoza.  Those  in  hearing 
laughed  gayly  at  the  quip,  as  did  Morando.  Neverthe 
less,  an  arctic  breath  seemed  to  touch  him. 

The  elders  gave  themselves  to  other  subjects — the 
grain  and  the  vineyard  prospects  for  the  year,  the  re- 


156    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

turn  of  their  herds  from  the  San  Joaquin,  and  the  like. 

Colonel  Barcelo's  voice  was  heard  talking  over  his 
contest  at  cribbage  with  Moraga. 

The  serving  peons  finished  their  work  and  were  stand 
ing  idly  by  the  door.  The  guests  had  eaten  their  fill. 
The  room  rang  with  merriment.  Many  of  the  senoritas 
had  woven  flowers  from  the  tables  into  wreaths  and  were 
wearing  them  on  the  head  or  around  the  neck.  Lolita 
Hernandez  wished  to  crown  her  partner  with  roses,  but 
the  youth,  with  mock  humility,  demurred. 

"Thrice  did  even  the  great  Caesar  refuse  a  crown," 
he  exclaimed. 

"Listen  to  the  lore  of  the  traveler,"  laughed  Peralta. 

The  other  had  just  returned  from  a  year  at  college 
in  Honolulu.  "The  fourth  offer  I  might  accept,"  he 
said. 

Lolita  promptly  placed  the  wreath  on  his  head.  "I 
crown  you  king  of  heartbreakers,"  but  looking  at  Mo- 
rando. 

"I  salute  the  king,"  proclaimed  the  Captain. 

"Whom  shall  I  crown  queen  of  heart-breakers?" 
Lolita  went  on. 

"Crown  yourself,"  from  her  partner.  "Senorita,  the 
honor  should  be  yours." 

"Hush !"  in  pretended  severity. 

"All  hearts  fall  before  you,"  sweeping  his  arm  toward 
the  company.  "Crown  yourself;  nay,  I'll  crown  you." 

He  removed  the  garland  from  his  own  head  and  at 
tempted  to  place  it  on  Lolita's.  She  resisted.  The 
senoritas  and  the  gallants  laughed  and  cheered  loudly. 
Finally  she  took  it  from  his  hand  and  held  it  aloft. 


AT  THE  SUPPER  157 

"I  appeal  to  the  company  here  present;  who  is  the 
queen  of  heart-breakers?  This  crown  is  looking  for  a 
wearer." 

"Alf reda  Castro  !  Carmelita  Mendoza !  Ysobel  Soto  ! 
Sefiora  Valentino  !"  came  from  the  crowd. 

"Th9  Sefiora  Valentino  should  have  it.  She  has  over 
come  the  Captain  Morando.  'Sword  and  glove'  has  he 
surrendered  to  her.  It  was  at  the  door  of  the  sup 
per  room.  I  saw  it.  Sefiora  Valentino,  the  wreath  is 
thine." 

"Senorita  Dona  Hernandez !"  remonstrated  her 
duena.  "Remember  the  senora  is  not  a  maid  as  art 
thou.  Have  care  for  thy  tongue." 

Lolita  started  toward  Senora  Valentino. 

"Come  back,  Senorita  Lolita,"  from  the  duena. 

Lolita  partly  turned,  but  Senora  Valentino  was 
laughing,  in  evident  enjoyment  of  the  fun.  Reassured, 
the  girl  called  to  the  company: 

"Shall  it  not  be  the  senora?' 

"The  Sefiora  Valentino !"  they  cried.  "Our  fair  guest 
from  Spain!  Honor  her!  Crown  her  queen  of  heart- 
breakers  !" 

The  senora  smiled  sweetly  at  the  joyous  throng,  as 
much  at  home  in  the  frolic  as  anyone  among  them. 

Lolita  placed  the  wreath  on  the  senora's  head.  "As 
thy  friends  acclaim,  so  I  do.  You  are  pronounced  queen 
of  heart-breakers." 

What  reply  the  senora  made  could  not  be  heard  for 
the  applause,  but  she  kissed  first  one  hand,  then  the 
other,  to  the  senoritas  and  the  caballeros. 

Mendoza  was  standing  by  his  place  at  the  table.    He 


158    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

motioned  again  and  again  for  silence  before  it  was  ob 
tained.  Finally  they  listened  to  him. 

"To  the  ballroom  for  you  youngsters !  Come  with 
me." 

"Will  you  stay  with  us  in  the  ballroom,  serior?  We 
want  you,"  laughed  a  girl. 

"I'll  start  you  going  in  the  dance,  then  return  to  the 
table.  We  elders  like  to  linger  a  while  over  our  coffee 
and  burnt  brandy.  But  come  now,  children." 

They  followed  him  through  the  green  archway  into 
the  ballroom. 

When  the  senor  had  left  the  supper  room,  taking  the 
younger  contingent  with  him,  the  others  had  moved  to 
ward  his  end  of  the  table.  Barcelo  insisted  that  Moraga 
should  at  once  accompany  him  to  the  card  room ;  where 
upon  rather  reluctantly  Moraga  left  his  old  friends. 

Marcel  Hernandez  arose  to  his  feet. 

"Fellow  rancheros,  and  your  ladies,"  bowing  gal 
lantly,  "Senor  Mendoza,  occupied  with  the  young  peo 
ple,  is  temporarily  absent  from  the  room — he  is  quite 
a  boy,  is  the  senor — and  I  take  occasion  to  say  a  word 
to  you.  The  old  government  here  is  worn  out,  ready 
to  fall  to  pieces  like  a  used-up  carreta.  We,  the  leaders 
of  the  people,  must  find  another  government — find 
another;  yes,  and  soon.  We  have  talked  it  over  this 
evening;  in  fact,  have  talked  of  little  else  for  weeks  and 
months.  Let  us  take  action  to-night." 

He  sat  down  deliberately. 

A  half  dozen  men  sprang  to  their  feet.  All  dignity 
was  thrown  aside,  and  they  raised  their  voices  and  ges 
ticulated  earnestly. 


AT  THE  SUPPER  159 

"It  is  not  yet  the  time,"  called  one. 

"It  is  the  time,  and " 

Another  drowned  him  out  by  shouting,  "Let  us  seek 
adequate  protection  from  some  great  nation  which  will 
insure  us  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness." 

"Mexico  falls  soon  before  the  United  States.  We 
shall  be  declared  contraband  of  war  and  suffer  the  con 
sequences,  unless  we  act  quickly  and  in  the  right  di 
rection,"  asserted  yet  another. 

Don  Louis  Valencia  arose. 

"Friends,  you  speak  wisely.  Nothing  more  need  be 
said.  Let  us  act.  I  say,  make  our  province  a  de 
pendency  of  Great  Britain.  That  country  will  protect 
us.  Sefiors,  now  is  the  time.  Great  Britain  will  be  our 
ally  and  friend.  I  repeat,  take  action — and  now!" 
thumping  his  fist  on  the  table. 

Senor  Mendoza  returned  from  the  ballroom  at  that 
moment.  He  went  to  his  chair  at  the  table.  All  be 
came  silent. 

They  waited  for  him  to  speak  on  the  matter  which 
was  occupying  so  much  attention  in  California.  The 
stillness  became  intense. 

"Neighbors  and  friends,"  Mendoza  said  at  last, 
"what  I  heard  as  I  entered  tells  me  the  import  of  the 
debate  which  evidently  took  place  while  I  was  absent. 
I  hope  nothing  will  come  to  head  at  present." 

"It  must  come  to  head!"  from  Hernandez.  "Why 
not  take  the  bull  by  the  horns  ?"  looking  at  Higuera.  "I 
mean,  why  not  take  initiative  here  and  now?  It  is  un 
safe  to  wait." 

Valencia  seconded  Hernandez's  words. 


160    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"The  wise  traveler,"  counseled  Mendoza,  "surveys  an 
unknown  way  rood  by  rood.  Senor  Hernandez  and 
friends,  before  taking  positive  action  we  should  consider 
the  path  along  which  we  would  find  ourselves." 

"It  is  either  the  United  States  or  England,"  argued 
Valencia.  "No  other  nation  need  be  considered.  Why 
not  declare  for  one  or  the  other  before  another 
day?" 

"Quite  right,  neighbor  Valencia,  quite  right!"  sup 
ported  Hernandez. 

"The  rest  of  the  province  is  undecided,  as  we  have 
been.  We  now  know  our  minds.  Let  us  speak  them. 
The  others  will  follow,  and  the  vexed  question  is  at 
an  end,"  again  from  Valencia. 

"But  do  we  know  our  minds  well  enough  to  speak 
them?"  questioned  Mendoza. 

"We  do !   We  do  !"  replied  Valencia. 

"Huzza !   Huzza  !"  shouted  Hernandez. 

"Better  consider!"  cautioned  Higuera. 

"Slowness  never  wins  the  race,"  retorted  Valencia. 

"The  tortoise  won  the  race  from  the  hare,"  rebutted 
Higuera. 

The  dancing  had  not  held  all  those  who  had  gone  with 
Senor  Mendoza  to  the  ballroom.  The  atmosphere 
around  the  table  of  the  elders  was  surcharged  with 
subtle  influence  which  drew  many  back.  By  twos  and 
threes  they  came.  Senora  Valentino  and  Abelardo 
Peralta  were  among  them ;  Captain  Morando  also. 

"Prepare  to  become  an  English  province,"  now  from 
young  Peralta. 

Not  a  few  were  of  that  conviction.    "England  is  just. 


AT  THE  SUPPER  161 

England  allows  her  dependencies  to  flourish  in  their  own 
way,"  they  declared. 

"Huzza !  Huzza !"  again  shouted  Hernandez.  "Viva 
England !" 

Morando  arose. 

"I  make  no  preference  save  this,"  he  said.  "We  must 
preserve  here  Spanish  ideals,  Spanish  manhood  and 
womanhood." 

"Excellent !"  commended  the  host.     "Splendid !" 

"Splendid!"  echoed  Senora  Valentino,  clapping  her 
hands. 

The  women  followed  her  example.  "Yes,  yes,  Spanish 
manhood  and  womanhood !"  they  exclaimed. 

The  Senorita  Carmelita  came  to  her  father's  chair. 

"Papacito,  the  time  soon  comes  for  El  Son.  We 
await  you  in  the  ballroom." 

"At  once,  little  one." 

The  elders  left  the  table,  and  the  entire  company 
moved  toward  the  door. 

"For  Castilian  manhood  and  womanhood  in  this 
province !"  Senora  Valentino  said  to  Morando. 

"Sword  and  glove !"  enthusiastically  in  return. 

Again  their  palms  met  in  compact. 

For  the  second  time  that  evening  Carmelita  saw  the 
fervent  hand-clasp. 


CHAPTER  XII 
CARMELITA  DANCES  EL  SON 

BY  custom  the  dance  of  El  Son  followed  supper. 
Peons  pared  wax  from  candles  and  scattered  the 
particles  over  the  ballroom  floor.  Smooth  as  it  had 
been  before  it  must  be  made  more  so  for  the  dance  El 
Son.  The  Indian  men  and  women  worked  the  wax  into 
the  wood  until  the  surface  shone  like  the  beams  of  a  har 
vest  moon. 

"A  little  more  wax  by  you  there,  Clotilda — not  that 
side,  the  other !"  ordered  the  peon  in  charge.  "Now,  be 
alive  with  your  foot.  Use  judgment!  Use  judgment! 
Don't  wear  a  hole  in  the  floor.  Now,  more  wax  where 
your  toes  were  digging!" 

"Already  as  many  candles  are  in  the  shavings,  To- 
maso,  as  would  make  a  display  for  Holy  Thursday," 
remonstrated  a  peona. 

"What  have  we  here?  What  have  we  here?"  indig 
nantly  from  Tomaso.  "All  masters,  and  no  servants? 
Obey  my  word,  and  be  quick  about  it !  Move  yourselves, 
every  one  of  you !  Make  the  floor  glisten.  The  more  it 
shines  the  more  slippery  it  is.  Did  you  not  hear  some 
of  the  company  clamoring  that  our  dona  herself  dance 
El  Son  to-night?" 

Tomaso  was  Senor  Mendoza's  trusty  man,  an  Indian 
162 


CARMELITA  DANCES  EL  SON  163 

of  intelligence  and  fidelity.  He  was  captain  of  the 
Senor's  fighting  peons  and  had  been  Carmelita's  pos 
tilion  at  the  merienda  race.  Under  his  rapid  orders  the 
servants  made  the  floor  ready.  Mendoza,  however,  was 
not  satisfied  with  it. 

"The  floor  is  not  yet  right  for  El  Son.  It  needs  a 
dance  thereon.  Friends,  let  us  have  a  waltz  !" 

The  caballeros  sought  partners,  looking  for  their 
lady  loves  over  grounds,  reception  rooms,  and  conserva 
tory.  Morando  found  Carmelita  chatting  vivaciously 
in  the  midst  of  a  gay  party. 

"Will  you  favor  me  with  this  waltz,  senorita  dona?" 

"It  is  yours,  Captain  Morando." 

In  a  moment  they  were  one  of  a  hundred  couples  on 
the  floor.  The  girl's  eyes  sparkled  and  the  color  rose 
higher  in  her  cheeks. 

"A  wonderful  night  this  has  been !"  Morando  ex 
claimed  to  his  partner  in  the  waltz.  "What  a  pity  it 
must  end  so  soon!" 

"You  are,  then,  enjoying  the  baile?  No?  It  will 
delight  my  father,  I  know,  to  hear  that." 

"Senorita  Dona,  may  I  have  a  few  moments  with  you 
when  this  dance  is  over?" 

"Certainly." 

In  a  little  while  they  were  seated  in  the  quiet  of  a 
reception  room. 

"Senorita  Carmelita,  I  told  you  earlier  in  the  evening 
that  I  love  you,  and  I  asked  your  love  in  return.  Again 
I  tell  you  I  love  you.  O,  dona  mia !  Dona  mia !  Will 
you  not  accept  my  love?" 

She  looked  at  him  and  moved  away  slightly. 


164    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"O,  Dona  Carmelita,  will  you  not  answer  me?" 

"The  Capitan  Morando  is  insistent." 

"My  heart  urges  me,  senorita  dona,  my  heart  filled 
with  love  for  you." 

"The  Capitan's  love  hangs  on  slender  thread." 

"You,  dona  mia,  can  make  that  thread  strong." 

"I  do  not  choose  thus  to  occupy  myself." 

"0,  heart  of  my  heart,  accept  my  love  and  I  will  give 
my  whole  life  to  you." 

"It  is  quite  time  for  this  interview  to  end.  Senor 
Capitan,  will  you  escort  me  back  to  the  company?" 

"Senorita  Carmelita,  why  do  you  speak  in  this  way? 
Have  I  offended  you?" 

"Possibly  you  have  other  questions  to  ask." 

"Only  one  other  question  concerns  me,  senorita  mia. 
Answer  me  that,  I  implore  of  you.  Say  that  you  will 
accept  my  love." 

He  stood  before  her.  Involuntarily  his  hand  dropped 
to  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  as  it  had  done  when  shortly 
before  he  had  been  speaking  to  Seiiora  Valentino. 

The  girl  arose  quickly.  "Good  evening,  Captain 
Morando,"  she  said  and  left  the  room. 

Undecided,  he  looked  after  her. 

A  hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder. 

"Senor  Captain,  we  meet  after  El  Son  in  the  card 
room.  Come  into  the  open  with  us,  and  we  will  explain." 

It  was  Valencia  who  spoke. 

"Yes,  come  with  us.  We  have  been  looking  every 
where  for  you,"  joined  in  Hernandez. 

"I  am  at  your  service,  senors." 

The  music  for  El  Son,  low  and  sobbing,  came  floating 


CARMELITA  DANCES  EL  SON          165 

through  the  flower-scented  air.  This  dance,  of  Spanish, 
or,  perhaps,  of  Moorish  origin,  had  elaborated  itself  in 
the  new  world,  personifying  in  poetry  of  motion  the 
joyous  spirit  of  the  province.  It  belonged  to  the  master 
of  the  house  to  select  the  dancer  who,  if  she  chose, 
might  add  to  the  usual  figures  inventions  of  her  own. 
Carmelita  appeared  at  the  entrance  of  the  ballroom. 
Serving  maids  and  Indian  messenger  boys  were  around 
her  in  numbers.  She  dispatched  them,  one  by  one,  to 
bring  in  all  the  guests. 

They  came  from  everywhere.  The  older  men  were  in 
small  groups,  talking  earnestly,  and  often  gesticu 
lating  vehemently.  The  young  men  were  mostly  with 
their  sweethearts  and  the  duenas.  With  Sefiora  Valen 
tino  were  Valencia,  Hernandez,  Abelardo  Peralta,  Pa- 
tricio  Martinez,  and  a  half  dozen  others,  including 
Morando. 

"We  have  laid  before  the  Captain  our  point  of  view," 
Hernandez  was  saying.  "Even  the  charming  Senora 
Valentino,  a  stranger  here  and  altogether  free  from 
self-interest,  agrees " 

They  passed  into  the  ballroom. 

Senor  Mendoza  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  pre 
tending  to  clap  his  hands  before  this  senorita,  or  that, 
this  being  the  signal  by  which  the  favored  one  was  no 
tified  that  she  was  to  set  foot  to  the  measures.  Laugh 
ter  and  bantering  without  stint  went  around. 

"Lolita  Hernandez!" 

"Lucinda  Higuera !" 

"Tula  Laynez !" 

" Juanita  Calderon !" 


166    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Alf reda  Castro !"  from  yet  another  partisan ;  and 
so  on. 

"The  Sefiorita  Carmelita !"  cried  a  dozen  voices  as 
the  dofia  entered. 

"Beautiful !  Beautiful !"  exclaimed  the  usually  phleg 
matic  Fulgencio  Higuera.  "The  senorita  Mendoza 
has  stolen  the  light  of  stars  for  her  eyes,  and  she  has 
robbed  the  gardens  for  her  cheeks.  Let  her  dance  El 
Son." 

She  bowed  in  appreciation. 

"I  thank  }7ou,"  she  said.  Then  to  her  father,  "Papa- 
cito,  a  word." 

They  withdrew. 

"Will  you  ask  me  to  dance  El  Son?" 

Wondrously  beautiful  she  was,  her  dark  eyes  glowing, 
the  color  flaming  in  her  cheeks.  The  chivalry  of  his 
young  manhood  lived  again  as  he  saw  the  resplendent 
girl.  Joy  leaped  in  his  heart  that  this  exquisite  crea 
ture  was  his  daughter.  She  stood  before  him,  every 
element  of  her  personality  pleading. 

"Please,  Papacito !  I  wish  it  to-night  more  than  any 
thing  else." 

They  walked  back  among  the  people.  The  company 
unwittingly  seconded  her  request. 

"The  Senorita  Mendoza,  the  fairest  of  the  fair !  Call 
her,  senor !  Call  her,  the  lily  of  the  valley  !" 

The  old  don  hesitated. 

Again  came  the  request  from  all  sides,  increasing  in 
sistent. 

"Papacito,  please !"  urged  the  girl  in  low  -voice. 

He  clapped  his  hands  before  her. 


CARMELITA  DANCES  EL  SON  167 

In  the  midst  of  loud  applause  she  walked  to  the  middle 
of  the  room. 

The  music,  now  dreamy  and  insinuating,  soon  took  a 
livelier  turn.  The  young  woman  glided  back  and  forth 
on  the  waxed  floor  as  lightly  as  a  swallow  skims  the  air. 
In  willowy  movements,  hands  and  feet  in  perfect  cor 
respondence,  she  hovered  over  the  cleared  space,  seeming 
scarcely  to  touch  the  floor.  Then,  in  wider  step,  she 
circled  over  this  space  in  eaglelike  sweeps,  her  arms 
outstretched  and  her  long  hair  floating. 

Without  pausing,  the  girl's  movements  became 
sinuous,  gentle.  She  advanced,  retreated,  again  came 
forward,  as  if  entreating,  but  fearing  rebuff.  Rare 
grace  and  charm  was  in  every  motion. 

"Brava !  Brava !"  shouted  the  men,  while  above  all 
was  heard  the  excited  voice  of  Morando. 

With  arms  extended  she  fluttered  from  side  to  side, 
as  a  butterfly  sipping  honey  from  flower-cups  here  and 
there,  staying  but  an  instant  at  any  one. 

Her  hand  made  gesture  to  the  musicians. 

The  strain  became  bold,  quick,  martial. 

She  spun  on  her  toe-tips,  her  long  dress  billowing,  her 
hair  streaming.  As  she  whirled,  her  feet  described  wind 
ing  figures  on  the  floor,  her  skirts  repeating  the  design. 

More  and  more  quickly  Carmelita  circled  over  the 
room. 

Louder  crashed  the  music,  and  more  hearty  became 
the  plaudits. 

Fulgencio  Higuera  drew  from  his  pocket  a  handful 
of  gold  pieces,  and  flung  them  at  the  seflorita's  feet. 
Another,  another,  a  dozen  others,  followed  his  example. 


168    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Brava!  Brava!"  cried  Marcel  Hernandez,  tossing 
handfuls  of  gold  to  the  ceiling.  The  pieces  fell  among 
the  enthusiastic  company,  who  scarcely  noticed  the  glit 
tering  shower. 

Still,  the  dona  sped  on  her  toes,  her  skirt  still  mark 
ing  in  ampler  pattern  the  lines  fashioned  by  her  feet. 
Her  very  being  undulated  in  response  to  the  weird 
music. 

The  applause  hushed  for  a  moment. 

"C-A-R-M-E-L-I-T-A  M-E-N-D-O-Z-A,"  some  one 
spelled  the  tracing,  letter  by  letter.  "Carmelita  Men- 
doza." 

The  clamor  broke  out  afresh. 

"She  has  worked  her  name  on  the  ballroom  floor,  as 
part  of  the  dance !  Viva !  Viva !"  they  shouted.  "Viva ! 
Viva!" 

The  dona  again  fluttered  up  and  down,  arms  out 
stretched. 

The  caballeros  rushed  around  the  girl  shouting  and 
praising  her.  More  gold  was  freely  scattered,  its  jingle 
intermingling  with  the  orchestra. 

"Splendid!  Splendid!  Is  it  not  so,  Senora  Valen 
tino?"  came  from  Captain  Morando.  Without  pausing 
for  reply  he  hastened  to  Carmelita,  who  was  surrounded 
by  numberless  congratulating  friends. 

"O,  dona  mia,"  the  Captain  cried,  "you  dance  with 
the  grace  of  an  angel." 

"The  most  successful  rendition  of  El  Son  in  a  dec 
ade  !"  added  a  duena. 

"The  most  perfect  ever,"  again  from  Morando. 

Senora  Valentino  came  up  all  smiles.     "This  ball  is 


CARMELITA  DANCES  EL  SON 

the  rarest  treat  of  my  visit  to  California,  and  your 
El  Son,  senorita,  is  the  choice  incident  of  the  evening's 
pleasure.  I  thank  you  for  it." 

"You  are  very  good,  sefiora.  I  am  glad  that  I  can 
help  in  entertaining  you." 

The  music  for  a  mazurka  was  beginning.  The  older 
men  disappeared  from  the  room.  Morando,  Peralta, 
Martinez,  and  a  number  of  others  soon  followed,  while 
the  rest  were  again  at  the  dance. 

Colonel  Barcelo  and  Moraga  returned  to  the  card 
room  and  finished  their  nearly  completed  round  of  crib- 
bage. 

"A  piece  of  luck,  Moraga.  Simply  a  confounded 
piece  of  luck.  It  happens  occasionally." 

"I've  won  five  out  of  six  games  from  you  to-night. 
Colonel." 

"Chance  threw  the  cards  your  way.  My  skill  simply 
went  for  nothing — went  for  nothing!" 

The  card  room  rapidly  filled.  After  a  few  moments 
of  cursory  conversation  there  was  silence.  Each  was 
waiting  for  another  to  speak. 

Valencia  began. 

"Senors,"  with  much  deliberation,  "at  supper  the 
sense  of  the  majority  of  the  assemblage  was  that  we 
take  our  province  from  the  tutelage  of  Mexico  to  the 
protection  of  Great  Britain.  The  question  before  us 
is,  How  shall  we  proceed  to  make  this  transfer?  Let 
us  hear  from  you." 

Hernandez  arose. 

"Send  a  delegation  to  the  English  representative  in 
Monterey,  and  tell  him  of  our  desires.  A  British  fleet 


170    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

is  near.  Let  it  take  possession  of  the  province.  Then, 
if  Mexico  objects,  she  will  have  Great  Britain  to  deal 
with." 

Most  of  the  men  nodded  affirmatively. 

Hernandez  took  his  seat  with  a  satisfied  air. 

"Friends,"  said  Mendoza,  "I  am  not  of  the  mind 
that  it  is  wise  to  take  action  in  this  matter  to-night. 
Too  great  haste  in  acting  is  like  a  too  hot  fire  in  cook- 
ing." 

Higuera,  Zelaya,  and  a  few  others  signified  they  were 
in  agreement  with  this. 

"My  friends,  action  is  the  word !"  cried-  Hernandez. 
"Positive  action!  Prompt  action!  Mexico  stands  at 
our  gates  collecting  taxes,  giving  nothing  in  return, 
like  the  robbers  at  Tarifa.  Drop  Mexico,  I  say,  and 
join  hands  with  England,  at  once!" 

"As  English  subjects  a  mighty  future  is  ours.  Let 
us  not  wait,"  from  Abelardo  Peralta. 

"The  young  men  will  have  opportunities  then,"  fol 
lowed  Miguel  Soto.  "An  English  prime  minister  ruled 
his  political  world  when  he  was  twenty-one." 

"Why  not  find  from  the  United  States,  and  from 
Great  Britain  as  well,  the  conditions  under  which  they 
will  receive  our  province?  We  can  then  act  more  in 
telligently. 

"No,  no  !"  chorused  many.  "England !  England ! 
Become  English  subjects  at  once." 

Hernandez  jumped  to  his  feet.  "Become  British 
subjects  at  once!"  waving  his  hand. 

Others,  and  yet  others,  followed  his  example,  till  the 
place  fairly  rang  with  the  shouting. 


CARMELITA  DANCES  EL  SON  171 

Mendoza  rapped  on  a  table.  After  quiet  was  re 
stored  he  began:  "Senors,  we  have  in  Baja  California 
men  like  Carillo  and  the  brothers  Pico.  Unless  we  allow 
them  a  part  in  our  deliberations  they  will  repudiate  any 
action  we  may  take.  England  does  not  want  a  province 
with  divided  sentiment.  Carillo  and  the  brothers  Pico 
are  capable  of  inciting  Southern  California  to  rebellion, 
if  we  attempt  to  turn  over  the  province  to  England 
without  consulting  them." 

"Good  friends,  no  embarrassment  need  be  feared 
from  Carillo,  nor  from  the  brothers  Pico."  With  these 
words  Sefiora  Valentino  floated  into  the  room,  her  up 
turned  face  wreathed  in  smiles. 

The  company,  surprised  at  the  sound  of  her  voice, 
turned  questioningly. 

"I  think  Carillo,  likewise  the  brothers  Pico,  can  be 
relied  on  to  espouse  your  wish  to  transfer  allegiance  to 
England." 

Mendoza  spoke :  "Respected  lady,  these  absent  gen 
tlemen  must  be  given  a  chance  to  speak  for  themselves. 
Giving  away  provinces  is  more  than  child's  play.  We 
cannot  hazard  guesses." 

"My  ever-wise  Administrator,  you  are  right.  It  oc 
curs  to  me  that  these  same  brothers  Pico  and  Senor 
Carillo  have  in  some  slight  manner  expressed  themselves 
as  favorable  to  this  English  protectorate  which  we  all 
are  so  anxious  to  bring  about." 

"But,  good  senora,  mere  hearsay  must  not  be  ac 
cepted." 

"Again,  right  as  ever,  most  worthy  Administrator. 
But,  to  recollect  further — I  believe  I  have  in  my  pos- 


172    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

session  a  letter  from  these  senors — possibly,  two  or 
three  letters — as  I  recall  the  matter  more  closely.  These 
same  letters,  if  I  mistake  not,  declare  quite  plainly  as  to 
the  sentiments  of  the  writers." 

"But,  Sefiora  Valentino,  there  must  be  no  possibility 
of  mistake  in  such  an  issue  as  this." 

With  childlike  simplicity  she  looked  into  the  face  of 
Mendoza. 

"I  remember  fully  now.  These  Southerners  express 
unequivocally  their  desire  to  make  California  a  British 
province.  They  assure  us  they  will  spare  no  pains  to 
bring  about  this  consummation." 

"But,  senora,  pardon :  would  I  presume  should  I  ask 
further  enlightenment  ?" 

Again  she  smiled.  "Sefior,  your  Excellency,  you  do 
not  presume.  These  communications  from  Senors 
Carillo  and  the  Pico  brothers  were  merely  little  private 
scribbles,  from  one  sojourner  to  another,  so  to  speak, 
and  in  which  there  happened  to  be  mention  of  the  po 
litical  unrest  now  occupying  the  minds  of  the  sterner 
sex."  Her  smile  broadened. 

Colonel  Barcelo  had  been  looking  through  the  cards 
of  the  last  hand  at  cribbage,  hoping  to  come  across 
errors  in  his  opponent's  play.  He  found  none.  "This 
question  should  have  been  settled  long  ago,"  he  said, 
testily.  "Let  the  British  admiral  bring  his  fleet  into 
Monterey  Harbor.  Down  comes  the  Mexican  flag  and 
up  goes  the  Union  Jack.  Mexico  cannot  resist,  having 
no  ships.  I  wonder  I  did  not  think  of  having  this  done 
before." 

He  took  his  seat,  and  again  looked  through  the  cards. 


CARMELITA  DANCES  EL  SON  173 

Renewed  enthusiasm  now  possessed  the  company. 
They  applauded  and  shouted;  and  cheered  Senora 
Valentino  and  Colonel  Barcelo.  When  quiet  came  a 
committee  was  chosen  to  acquaint  the  English  repre 
sentative  at  Monterey  of  California's  wish. 

"Come,  Moraga,"  challenged  Colonel  Barcelo,  "let 
us  play  again." 

"Colonel,  you  would  pass  a  province  from  hand  to 
hand  as  unconcernedly  as  you  do  these  pasteboards," 
uttered  Moraga,  taking  his  place  at  the  card  table. 

"Certainly  !  Certainly !  This  change  has  really  been 
in  my  mind  some  time.  Just  crept  in,  so  I  hardly 
noticed  it." 

The  Colonel  and  the  land  baron  were  soon  engrossed 
with  the  game.  The  other  guests  sauntered  away. 

A  few  moments  later  Carmelita  chanced  to  see 
Tomaso,  captain  of  her  father's  fighting  peons,  riding 
away  on  Mercuric,  the  wheel  horse  in  the  merienda  race. 
Following,  on  a  reata,  was  the  big  bay  leader  of  the 
Mendoza  team.  The  Indian  had  stripped  to  the  waist, 
and  wore  only  the  leathern  knee  breeches  of  the  peon 
jockey.  A  handkerchief  was  tied  tightly  around  the 
head  to  keep  in  place  his  long  hair.  Neither  horse  was 
saddled,  having  only  a  surcingle  about  its  body. 

The  rattle  of  hoofs  on  the  hard  road  sounded  loud 
in  the  night,  then  died  out. 

The  girl  knew  that  Tomaso  was  bent  on  some  errand 
of  great  interest  to  her  father.  The  two  swift  horses, 
prepared  as  they  were,  meant  that  the  Indian  would, 
if  necessary,  ride  one  to  exhaustion,  then  use  the  other 
to  complete  his  journey. 


174    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  night  waned.  Noises  of  early  morning  began  to 
echo  in  the  hills.  The  dance  and  merriment  went  on. 
Faint  tracings  of  dawn  came  across  the  eastern  horizon. 
The  Mendoza  ball  was  drawing  to  its  close.  Light  came 
on  wings  of  morning. 

Peons  brought  carreta  and  horse.  Senor  Mendoza 
and  his  daughter  stood  at  the  courtyard  gate  to  wish 
Godspeed  to  the  departing  guests.  "Adios,  Senor  Men 
doza !  Adios,  Senorita  Mendoza!"  was  heard  on  every 
side. 

Father  and  daughter  watched  neighbor  and  friend 
go  their  way. 

Rapidly  galloping  horses  were  approaching  from  the 
direction  of  the  eastern  hills.  Two  horsemen  were  soon 
at  the  gate.  One  was  Tomaso  astride  the  big  bay  leader 
trembling  from  the  ride.  The  other  was  O'Donnell  on 
his  stallion. 

"Buenos  dias,  Senor  O'Donnell,"  greeted  Mendoza. 

O'Donnell  returned,  "Good  morning,"  adding  with 
rising  reflection,  "Well?" 

"The  Sefior  O'Donnell  and  I  have  pressing  business, 
my  daughter.  Please  excuse  us,  carita  mia." 

The  senorita  bowed. 

The  men  went  into  Mendoza's  private  office. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
RETURNING  FROM  THE  BALL 

"TV/|"Y  Captain,  it  has  been  a  goodly  night,  one  long 
1*-I-  to  be  remembered." 

Senora  Valentino  and  Captain  Morando  were  riding 
along  the  rolling  highway  which  led  southerly  from  the 
Mission  San  Jose.  A  large  portion  of  the  company  that 
had  attended  the  ball  traveled  this  same  road,  the  men 
on  their  mounts,  the  women-folks  mostly  in  carretas, 
though  two  or  three,  like  Senora  Valentino,  preferred 
horseback. 

"Our  Mendoza  is  a  lavish  host.  He  does  nothing  by 
halves,  like  the  worthy  Californian  that  he  is." 

"Ah  !  yes.     A  wonderful  man !     A  wonderful  man !" 

The  seiiora  reined  in  her  horse.  A  rabbit,  pursued 
by  a  hawk,  was  running  toward  them  from  the  under 
brush  at  the  side.  Double  and  dodge  as  it  might,  the 
little  beast  could  not  rid  itself  of  its  persecutor.  Fi 
nally  it  lay,  a  little  crumpled  heap,  not  far  from  the 
sefiorita's  horse,  squealing  for  mercy.  It  found  none, 
for  the  bird  of  prey  drove  its  talons  into  the  fur  and 
started  to  carry  away  its  victim. 

The  senora  swung  her  horse  in  wide  curve  and  struck 
the  hawk  with  her  riding-whip.  It  dropped  the  rabbit 
and  flew  fiercely  at  her.  She  struck  it  again,  this  time 

175 


176    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOS6 

with  the  butt  of  the  whip.  It  circled  away,  but  re 
turned  to  the  attack  and  was  hovering  over  the  lady 
when  Morando  killed  it  with  a  pistol  shot. 

It  was  the  occurrence  of  a  moment ;  but  the  angry 
challenge  of  the  hawk  and  the  report  of  the  firearm 
called  the  attention  of  the  horseback  riders  as  well  as 
the  dozing  occupants  of  the  carretas.  Men  shouted 
and  women  screamed.  The  peon  riflemen  came  hurrying 
up,  ready  for  battle. 

"Senora,  are  you  hurt?"  solicitously  inquired  Mo 
rando. 

"Nothing  much.     A  little  scratch." 

"Let  us  dismount.  You  are  pale.  Let  me  assist 
you." 

She  gave  him  her  uninjured  hand  and  loosed  her  feet 
from  the  stirrup.  Twilight  fell  across  her  eyes,  re 
solving  into  huge,  unsteady  clouds  swimming  around 
and  around  her  with  increasing  velocity.  In  dead  faint 
she  sank  into  Morando's  arms. 

The  Captain  removed  the  senora's  long  riding-glove, 
and  found  her  wrist  profusely  bleeding  from  a  small, 
but  deep,  perforation.  The  hawk  had  driven  its  talon 
in,  full  length. 

"Come,  amigos,"  Morando  cried,  "prepare  a  tempo 
rary  couch  for  Senora  Valentino  by  the  roadside." 

A  dozen  ponchos  fell  from  caballeros'  shoulders,  and 
the  women  improvised  a  comfortable  bed  from  them  on 
the  thickly  interwoven  green  grass,  the  soldier  holding 
the  insensible  woman  in  his  arms  the  while.  He  laid 
her,  still  fainting,  on  the  bed,  softly  odorous  of  the 
growing  things  about. 


RETURNING  FROM  THE  BALL          177 

In  tiny  pulsings  the  blood  flowed,  reddening  her  light- 
colored  riding-habit,  and  spattering  the  costly  fabric 
of  the  ponchos. 

The  Captain  bound  his  handkerchief  tightly  around 
her  arm  midway  between  wrist  and  elbow.  The  bleeding 
ceased. 

"Senors,  who  among  you  has  a  flask  of  aguardiente?" 

Several  were  offered. 

"Will  one  of  the  ladies  bathe  her  face  and  forehead 
with  the  liquor?" 

Senora  Higuera  did  the  service. 

Morando  was  tightly  bandaging  the  injured  mem 
ber  with  strips  torn  from  handkerchiefs  when  the 
patient  opened  her  eyes. 

"My  arm  feels  asleep,  Don  Alfredo,"  she  murmured. 
"Where  am  I?" 

"With  your  friends,  and  safe,"  replied  Morando. 

Color  gradually  came  into  her  face  and  lips.  Her 
breath  no  longer  fluttered. 

"O,  the  poor  little  fellow  so  wanted  to  save  his  life 
that  I  couldn't  see  him  lose  it,"  she  murmured.  "The 
hawk  passed  blow  for  blow  with  me.  His  talon  pricked 
through  my  glove." 

Word  of  the  mishap  had  gone  to  Senor  and  Senora 
Barcelo,  who  were  riding  in  the  vanguard  of  the  pro 
cession.  The  complaining  of  the  Barcelo  carreta 
mingled  with  the  puffing  of  the  Colonel's  horse  as  the 
two  raced  back. 

"O,  Silvia!  Silvia!  What  dreadful  thing  has  hap 
pened?"  wailed  Senora  Barcelo. 

"What  has  happened  is  over,  sister  mine.     Thanks 


178    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

to  our  friends  here,  and  Captain  Morando  in  particular, 
I  am  nothing  the  worse." 

"Doubtless !  Doubtless !.  How  clumsy  your  arm  looks 
tied  up  that  way !  Well,  a  peon  reported  you  stricken 
down  by  an  attacking  eagle.  How  about  it?"  inquired 
Barcelo. 

Senora  Valentino  quickly  detailed  the  story. 

"Humph !  A  pretty  state  of  affairs !  Come,  shall 
we  be  going?  Matters  of  great  importance  wait  my 
arrival  at  the  capitol." 

"There  is  no  reason  to  wait.  I  am  able  to  travel. 
Amigos,  adelante !"  playfully  waving  her  hand  toward 
the  south. 

Riders  and  carretas  set  out,  Senora  Valentino  moving 
slowly,  the  soldier  by  her  side.  The  Colonel,  making 
sure  all  was  well  with  his  sister-in-law,  insisted  on 
traveling  at  full  speed.  His  wife's  carreta  plunged  and 
squeaked  and  rolled  after  him. 

"My  dear,"  called  Senora  Higuera,  in  a  little  while, 
"you  are  growing  pale  again.  Stay  with  us  at  Aguas 
Calientes  until  you  feel  stronger.  We'll  send  a  peon 
messenger  on  a  swift  horse,  to  reach  your  sister  with 
explanations.  Come,  Senora  Valentino,  we  are  at  the 
turn  of  the  road." 

"I  fear,  senora,  your  arm  is  swelling.  It  will  be  better 
to  dismount  at  the  Higuera  hacienda  house  and  have 
the  wound  carefully  bathed  in  warm  water,"  counseled 
Morando. 

The  house  of  the  Higueras  was  but  a  few  hundred 
paces  from  the  road,  but  Senora  Valentino  was  able  to 
negotiate  the  distance  only  with  greatest  difficulty. 


RETURNING  FROM  THE  BALL          179 

The  senora's  wrist  had  swelled  considerably.  Mo- 
rando  removed  a  small  portion  of  the  riding-glove 
driven  in  by  the  bird's  claw.  Good  wife  Higuera  bathed 
the  wound  in  warm  water,  after  which  a  soothing 
lotion  of  herbs  diminished  the  pain  greatly, 

"Come,"  said  Senora  Valentino,  rising  from  the  couch 
whither  Morando  had  carried  her,  "it  is  time  for  me  to 
be  going." 

"Impossible,  my  lady,"  remonstrated  Higuera.  "My 
house  and  all  in  it  are  at  your  disposal.  Rest  to-day. 
Last  night  was  a  gay  one,  but  a  merry  night  means  a 
weary  morning.  To-morrow,  or  the  day  after,  you  can 
continue  your  way.  A  proper  guard  will  attend  you. 
Besides,  your  arm  may  require  further  treatment.  We 
have  an  Indian  woman  on  the  hacienda  who  is  only  less 
skillful  than  the  Captain,"  bowing  to  Morando. 

"Thank  you,  amigos.  My  sister  rests  at  the  Calderon 
hacienda,  near  San  Jose  pueblo.  I  can  easily  reach 
there  in  an  hour.  The  scratch  on  my  arm  is  nothing. 
I  am  ashamed  of  having  shown  weakness  over  it.  Miseri- 
cordia!  am  I  sugar  that  I  melt  if  a  cupful  of  water 
reaches  me?" 

Despite  all  protestations  she  insisted  on  starting 
forth. 

"Take  a  carreta,  my  dear  heart,"  urged  Senora 
Higuera.  "Come,  we'll  fill  the  body  of  the  vehicle  with 
blankets  and  have  all  as  soft  as  down  for  you.  What 
differs  an  hour  more  or  less  in  the  journey  if  you  can 
be  more  comfortable?  Let  me  make  ready  for  you." 

The  seiiora  would  not  listen  to  it.  She  mounted  her 
horse  gracefully,  despite  her  bandaged  arm,  waved 


180    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

adios  to  the  Higueras,  and  set  out  toward  San  Jose 
attended  by  Captain  Morando. 

"Be  sure  to  stop  if  you  feel  weak,"  called  Senora 
Higuera.  "A  peon  will  make  his  house  yours,  as  well 
will  any  ranchero." 

"Never  fear,  good  friends ;  I  have  strength  and  to 
spare  for  the  journey." 

The  rest  of  the  merrymakers  were  well  ahead.  The 
senora  and  the  Captain  rode  alone  over  a  virgin 
meadow.  Mountain  and  valley  smiled.  The  sun,  giving 
promise  of  a  perfect  day,  crystallized  his  light  in 
myriad  dewdrops  hanging  on  flower  petal  and  grass  leaf. 
The  morning  breeze  carried  the  sweet  voices  of  the  hill 
blooms  as  they  sang  in  fragrance.  Mingled  with  it  was 
the  pungent  tang  of  wild  mustard  bursting  into  gold. 
Great  stretches  of  wild  oats  eddied  and  billowed  away, 
an  emerald  sea  meeting  the  outposts  of  the  coast  range ; 
or,  dropping  across  the  valley,  lost  itself  in  the  misty, 
opalescent  sky  line.  High  aloft  the  lark  was  warbling 
his  joy  of  living.  The  blackbird  in  the  meadows  trilled 
love  songs  to  his  mate. 

The  man  and  woman  turned  their  horses  and  looked 
along  the  way  they  had  come.  The  San  Francisco  Bay 
reached  in  silvery  arc  to  the  horizon.  The  great  white 
buildings  of  .the  Mendoza  hacienda,  stippled  with  the 
gray  of  peon  dwellings,  rested  against  the  hills.  Stray 
cattle  and  horses  made  their  way  body-deep  in  the 
luxuriant  grass-growth,  while  the  mountains  echoed  the 
bleating  of  the  Mission's  sheep.  It  was  a  picture  of 
pastoral  California,  rich  and  splendid. 

The  lady  showed  no  trace  of  her  accident  of  an  hour 


RETURNING  FROM  THE  BALL         181 

before.  Color  was  in  her  face  and  animation  in  her 
tones  as  she  said:  "Captain  Morando,  let  us  look  our 
fill  on  this  scene.  The  future  will  see  a  panorama  here 
less  wild,  less  beautiful,  perhaps,  but  of  greater  useful 
ness."  She  turned  her  horse  again  southward. 

Morando  rode  by  her  side,  not  speaking  for  several 
moments.  Finally:  "Seiiora,  you  have  deep  interest  in 
these  Californias." 

"You  have  said  it,  sefior  Captain.  I  have,  indeed,  a 
deep  interest  in  the  province."  As  he  said  nothing  she 
continued:  "I  have  a  kindred  interest  in  the  'province 
of  hearts'  here  also — to  quote  our  host." 

He  laughed. 

"Really,  Captain,  it  would  not  surprise  me  if  Sefior 
Mendoza's  ball  brought  about  half  a  dozen  weddings. 
The  setting  for  love-making  was  exquisite.  It  might 
have  been  fashioned  after  some  fairy  scene,  so  delicately 
were  light  and  color  blended,  with  that  delicious  music 
of  the  natives  permeating  it  all.  Madrid  would  have 
gone  wild  over  it !  Even  the  most  watchful  mamma  and 
duena  felt  the  spell  and  laughed  and  looked  away  while 
some  fair  one  allowed  the  brave  Don  Juan  to  hold  her 
hand  and  murmur  nothings  to  her.  Why,  even 
senoritas  and  young  sparks  betrothed  in  childhood  by 
their  parents  yielded  to  the  passion  divine,  as  if  their 
love  was  at  first  sight."  She  laughed  gently. 

"Was  it  so?  I  am  too  little  acquainted  with  the 
families  of  Alta  California  to  know  of  the  young  men 
and  women  so  engaged." 

The  senora's  laugh  was  now  merry,  as  she  replied: 
"I  sit  much  with  the  old  wives  and  know  all  the  gossip. 


182    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

I  can  tell  you  all  about  it.  There  are  Patricio  Martinez 
and  Alfredo  Castro.  Their  families  intermarried  in 
Spain  before  the  new  world  was  thought  of,  continued 
in  intermarriage  in  Mexico,  and  will  not  desist  in  Cali 
fornia.  Then,  there  are  Lucinda  Higuera  and  Aviel 
Soto ;  Lolita  Hernandez  and  young  Julius  Belden — part 
gringo  he  is,  as  they  term  it  here — and — and— yes, 
Tula  Rosa  and  Pancho  Laynez." 

"I  suppose  there  is  the  history  of  a  family  tree  con 
nected  with  each  of  these  betrothals !" 

"There  surely  is.  I  actually  ache  down  to  the  tips 
of  my  fingers,"  holding  up  her  injured  hand,  "trying  to 
remember  it  all.  But  come,"  checking  her  horse  sharply, 
in  sudden  remembrance,  "there  was  one  account  most 
interesting,  or,  rather,  more  interesting,  even,  than 
others.  Who  was  it  that  told  me?  I  think,  Senora 
Valdez,  or,  perhaps,  Senora  Sanchez.  No,  it  must  have 
been  the  very  aged  Senora  Hernandez,  Don  Marcel's 
mother." 

"My  interest  is  aroused  almost  beyond  bounds,"  he 
laughed. 

She  returned  the  laugh.  "Well,  whoever  it  was  that 
told  me,  I  remember  the  story.  It  relates  to  our  host  of 
last  night,  Sefior  Mendoza,  and  Senor  Peralta,  father 
of  that  splendid  young  cavalier,  Don  Abelardo. 

The  soldier's  interest  was  now  aroused  in  earnest. 

"The  friendship  of  Mendoza  and  of  the  Senor  Peralta, 
so  the  story  goes,  had  beginning  in  old  times.  Both  were 
soldiers,  daring  and  efficient,  and  a  common  cause,  that 
of  freeing  Spain  from  French  dominance,  led  to  mutual 
liking.  They  campaigned  together  for  years. 


RETURNING  FROM  THE  BALL          183 

"A  few  hours'  journey  from  Madrid,  near  Talavera 
city,  is  a  long  bluff  which  Colonel  Mendoza  held,  with 
English  troops,  against  the  fury  of  Joseph  Bonaparte's 
veterans.  It  was  the  pivotal  center  of  the  Iron  Duke's 
position — of  course,  this  Iron  Duke  was  just  Sir  Arthur 
Wellesley  then.  This  much  is  history." 

"I  have  read  of  Senor  Mendoza's  notable  part  in  that 
great  battle." 

"Well,  in  the  charge,  the  second  day,  when  the  French 
line  was  breaking,  Mendoza's  horse  was  shot  and  it  fell, 
pinning  him  beneath.  Peralta  saved  him  from  death  at 
the  hands  of  a  Toulousan  lancer.  The  Colonel  mounted 
another  horse,  nothing  the  worse  for  his  experience. 
Twice  before  nightfall  did  he  again  owe  his  life  to  his 
friend  Peralta.  This,  according  to  my  informant." 

Morando  said  nothing.     The  lady  continued: 

"Administrator  Mendoza  was  instrumental  in  having 
a  grant  of  land  made  to  Sefior  Peralta,  who  came  here 
to  occupy  it.  He  married  and  had  a  son,  Abelardo. 
Later,  the  Administrator  married,  and  his  daughter 
Carmelita  came  to  bless  his  home." 

Morando  was  looking  intently  at  the  speaker. 

"One  night  the  renegades  from  the  eastern  valleys 
drove  away  many  horses  and  cattle  after  maltreating 
the  attending  peons.  Mendoza  and  Peralta,  with  their 
fighting  Indians,  pursued  the  fleeing  miscreants.  An 
arrow  pierced  Peralta's  body,  and  he  would  have  fallen 
to  the  ground  had  not  Mendoza  caught  him.  Under 
the  protection  of  a  branching  oak,  on  the  primeval 
hillside,  the  end  came.  The  dying  man's  head  lay  on 
Mendoza's  lap,  their  hands  clasped  together,  while 


184.    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

the  sturdy  Mendoza  was  weeping.  Peralta  spoke 
faintly : 

"  'The  soldier  dies  from  a  savage's  arrow,  after  years 
of  service  on  the  field.  Well,  mio  amigo,  be  a  friend  to 
my  wife  and  boy.' 

"  'You  have  my  word  of  honor,'  replied  Mendoza. 

"Peralta  continued:  'And — and — yes.  My  senses 
are  leaving  me.  I  must  speak  quickly.  Let  our  life 
time  of  friendship  live  after  us,  in  the  union  of  our 
children  when  they  are  grown.' 

"There,  in  the  shade  of  nature,  the  greater  shadow 
of  death  hovering  near,  was  the  betrothal  agreement 
made.  The  Indian  riflemen  stood  around,  sombreros 
in  hand,  their  weapons  lying  on  the  turf,  to  do  homage 
to  death,  the  final  conqueror.  Senor  Mendoza  still  held 
in  his  arms  the  clay  of  his  friend,  still  his  tears  were 
falling.  'The  Peralta  and  Mendoza  friendship  shall 
live  on  in  our  children,'  he  said  in  broken  voice.  'The 
living  and  the  dead  make  this  consecration.' ' 

Morando's  horse  reared  to  perpendicular  line.  Un 
consciously  the  Captain  had  gripped  him  with  the  spurs. 
The  animal  sprang  from  the  beaten  road  through  dense 
masses  of  underbrush,  to  the  grassy  field  beyond.  It 
required  several  minutes  before  Morando  could  bring 
the  creature  back  to  the  sefiora's  side.  It  still  champed 
the  bit,  while  its  eyes  flashed  from  the  sting  of  the 
insult. 

"Your  horse  is  restive,  senor  soldier.  Perhaps  we 
have  loitered  along  the  way.  Come,  we  can  reach  the 
Calderon  home  before  the  sun  is  warm." 

They  cantered  in  silence  for  a  while. 


RETURNING  FROM  THE  BALL          185 

"Let  us  go  slowly  for  a  few  minutes,"  she  said.  "I 
find  I  am  not  so  strong  as  I  thought." 

Paleness  was  again  creeping  into  her  face. 

Morando  quickly  led  her  horse  by  the  bridle  to  the 
door  of  a  peon's  cot  near  the  wayside,  and  assisted  her 
to  dismount.  The  Indian  wife  came  curtsying  out, 
full  of  welcome. 

"My  house  is  yours,"  she  insisted,  bowing  again  and 
again.  "Your  visit  will  be  long  remembered.  I  am 
sorry  my  man  is  away  and  cannot  help  to  receive  you." 

"Some  warm  water  in  a  basin,"  said  the  soldier.  "The 
senora  has  had  an  accident  to  her  arm  and  it  needs  at 
tention." 

Morando  unbandaged  the  arm,  bathed  it  in  tepid 
water,  and  rebandaged  it  more  loosely. 

The  house  was  a  one-room  building,  made  of  adobe, 
whitewashed  outside  and  inside,  with  a  red  tile  roof. 
The  floor  was  earthen.  A  half  dozen  children  tumbled 
about.  The  Indian  woman  sat  on  a  rude  settee  and 
looked  interestedly  at  the  two  occupying  a  similar  piece 
of  furniture. 

"My  man  is  absent  in  San  Joaquin,"  she  said.  "He 
is  a  vaquero  for  Senor  Higuera.  We  expect  the  cattle 
soon  to  return,  and  again  I  will  have  my  husband." 

The  senora  was  charmed  with  the  naivete  of  the 
native. 

"I'm  sure  you  will  be  happy  then,"  she  said.  Color 
had  returned  to  her  cheeks  and  brightness  to  her  eyes. 

"Great  people  need  never  be  separated,"  the  peona 
went  on.  "Now,"  speaking  directly  to  Senora  Valen 
tino,  "you  had  your  husband  with  you  when  sickness 


186    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

met  you,  and  he  drove  it  away.  For  me,  two,  three, 
moons,"  counting  on  her  fingers,  "I  have  fought  it  alone 
for  myself  and  my  pocos  ninos,"  pointing  to  her 
brood. 

The  senora  smiled.     "This  senor  is  not  my  husband." 

The  woman  looked  intently  at  them.  "The  spirits  of 
the  future  speak  little  here  since  Padre  Lusciano  came. 
He  drives  them  away  with  the  breath  of  his  mouth. 
Dared  they  speak — dared  they  speak" — she  laughed 

quizzically — "they  would  say — they  would  say " 

She  broke  off  and  motioned  to  the  third  finger  of  the 
sefiora's  left  hand,  and  simulated  placing  a  ring  thereon. 
She  turned  to  Morando  and  laughed  again. 

The  senora  arose  to  her  feet.  "Come,  Capitan,  let 
us  thank  the  peona  for  her  kindness  and  for  her  sug 
gestion  of  prophecy,  and  go  on  our  journey.  I  trust 
my  strength  will  not  fail  again." 

Morando  offered  money  to  the  woman,  but  she  would 
not  accept  it. 

"The  gold  is  for  the  ring,"  she  replied  with  another 
queer  laugh.  "Why  should  I  withhold  kindnesses?" 
she  asked.  "God  gives  them  to  me.  I  should  not  keep 
them  selfishly." 

They  thanked  her  for  her  good  offices  and  went  their 
way. 

Senora  Valentino  was  her  buoyant  self  once  more, 
while  Morando,  though  all  courtesy  and  attention, 
seemed  in  a  quiet  mood. 

"Come,  soldier  mine,"  she  suggested,  "let  us  rejoice 
with  the  landscape  and  sing  with  the  spring."  She 
waited,  then  laughed  gayly.  "Perhaps  the  spirits  of 


RETURNING  FROM  THE  BALL          187 

the  future  gave  you  an  unhappy  horoscope."  Again 
she  gave  way  to  merriment. 

His  answering  laugh  had  a  forced  note,  as  he  said: 
"What  a  pity  the  spirits  are  no  longer  free  to  speak 
without  hindrance !  In  so  far,  my  lady,  as  the  peona 
spoke  for  them  their  message  flattered  me."  He  doffed 
his  cap  sweepingly. 

"Gallant  soldier!  But  I  was  speaking  a  while  ago 
of  this  province  of  California.  Do  you  realize,  Captain, 
that  here  is  a  country  exceeding  Spain  in  area  and 
equaling  her  soil  in  fertility?" 

"I  do  realize  it,  indeed,  senora.  What  we  see  here," 
indicating  the  waving  valley,  "and  even  after  a  winter 
of  drought,  is  a  demonstration  of  most  wonderful  fer- 
tility." 

"Under  the  English  flag  all  old  customs  will  flourish 
here;  the  civilization  developed  will  be  along  Spanish 
lines.  Colonists  will  come  in  numbers  and  a  mighty 
principality  will  grow — still  it  will  be,  in  essentials, 
Spanish.  A  viceroy  will  be  in  power,  combining  the 
office  of  a  general  with  that  of  governor.  These  vast 
haciendas  will  be  fruitful  farms  supporting  more  hun 
dreds  than  they  do  individuals  now." 

"What  you  say,  senora,  is  not  impossible." 

"What  power,  what  patronage,  what  opportunity 
would  belong  to  such  a  viceroy !  It  would  be  well-nigh 
that  of  a  king." 

Her  companion  made  no  response. 

"My  good  soldier,  of  all  the  men  in  California  who 
do  you  think  would  be  chosen  to  this  high  office  of  civil 
and  military  leader?" 


188    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Sefior  Mendoza  I  believe  to  be  the  ablest  man  in 
the  province.  After  him,  I  would  say,  comes  Carillo, 
in  the  South." 

She  smiled  into  his  face. 

"The  first  governor  under  English  rule  here  will  be 
chosen  on  recommendation  of  three  people.  I  am  one 
of  those  three." 

"What  can  you  mean,  Senora  Valentino?"  asked  the 
amazed  man. 

"I  mean  this.  It  is  my  belief  that  English  governing 
will  be  the  one  most  acceptable  to  the  Californians.  I 
have  become  Great  Britain's  special  representative,  and 
I  ani  laboring  to  bring  about  a  judicious  consumma 
tion." 

The  soldier  looked  wonderingly  at  her.  "Your 
words,  senora,  while  surprising  me,  explain  many 
things." 

She  went  on:  "When  the  British  admiral  opens  in 
Monterey  harbor  his  sealed  advices,  he  will  find  a  paper 
appointing  as  commander  of  the  army  and  head  of  this 
province  the  man  on  whom  the  English  consul,  Captain 
Farquharson,  and  your  humble  servant  have  agreed  as 
the  right  one  for  that  office." 

She  paused  in  her  remarks,  as  if  expecting  him  to 
speak.  He  did  not.  She  went  on :  "We  have  already 
made  our  choice."  She  spoke  dispassionately.  "Now, 
who  do  you  think  it  is?" 

"I  can  still  form  no  idea,  unless  it  be,  indeed,  Men 
doza,  or  Carillo — or,  possibly,  one  of  the  Picos." 

"It  is  none  other  than  Capitan  Alfredo  Morando." 

He  checked  his  horse. 


RETURNING  FROM  THE  BALL          189 

She  swung  her  mount  to  meet  him.  Neither  spoke 
for  several  moments. 

He  bared  his  head.  "Senora  Valentino,  words  fail 
me  to  express  my  gratitude  for  your  high  opinion  of 
me.  I  thank  you  most  cordially  and  most  humbly." 

They  rode  on  in  silence. 

At  last  they  neared  the  Calderon  hacienda  house. 

"Before  long  we  salute  you  as  'Your  Excellency.' ' 

"No,  senora.  As  greatly  as  I  prize  the  honor  paid 
me  by  you  and  the  other  two  I  shall  leave  California 
forever,  as  soon  as  I  can  do  so  in  fairness  to  my  work." 

The  Calderons  were  hastening  out  to  meet  them.  The 
anxious  friends  surrounded  the  senora.  Inquiring  and 
welcoming,  they  bore  her  away. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
O'DONNELL  TAKES  A  HORSEBACK  RIDE 

"/^1  OOD  pluck  has  that  Indian  lad  of  yours,  Senor 
VJT  Mendoza.  He  faced  the  muzzles  of  the  guns  this 
morning  without  batting  an  eye." 

Mendoza  and  O'Donnell  were  in  the  Administrator's 
office.  Mendoza's  eye  was  alert,  his  eagle  face  keen. 
The  poncho  thrown  carelessly  over  his  shoulders,  his 
mustachios  and  imperial  made  him  look  the  Old  World 
soldier  leader. 

"My  messenger  evidently  caught  you  before  you 
broke  camp."  Mendoza  spoke  in  English,  as  had  the 
other. 

"By  my  faith !  he  burst  into  camp  on  that  sorrel  like 
a  meteor.  I  had  'Adelante !'  half  out  of  my  mouth 
when  he  spurred  on  us.  A  dozen  pistols  were  aimed  at 
him,  and  why  my  fellows  didn't  shoot  I  don't  see,  except 
that  they  were  afraid  of  hitting  the  horse.  A  native 
more  or  less  wouldn't  count,  but  these  scoundrels  know 
rare  horseflesh  night  or  day.  Perhaps  they'd  peeked 
through  the  bars  of  your  corrals,  senor,  when  the  peon 
riflemen  weren't  looking." 

The  frontiersman  laughed.  He  lay  back  in  his  chair, 
crossing  his  legs,  and  waited  for  the  other  to  speak. 
His  beard  and  hair  were  free  from  the  cords  and  were 

190 


A  HORSEBACK  RIDE  191 

flowing  over  his  breast  and  shoulders.  The  bearskin 
leggings  seemed  more  shaggy  than  ever. 

"Those  men  will  be  your  companions  for  a  thousand 
miles?" 

"I  can  expect  no  other,  Senior  Mendoza.  Besides, 
they  serve  me  well." 

"Sefior  O'Donnell,  you  represent  great  interests  in 
California." 

"On  another  occasion  I  showed  you  documents  which 
assert  that." 

"Very  true.  Now,  at  a  critical  time  you  lose  yourself 
in  the  wilderness,  with  no  guard  save  a  company  of  cut 
throats  who  would  take  a  man's  life  for  a  handful  of 
pesos." 

"Ah,  Mendoza,  what  you  say  is  so.  This  is  a  critical 
time  and  my  men  would  hardly  ornament  a  Sunday 
school.  But  I  shall  meet  a  representative  of  the  United 
States  somewhere  to  the  east  of  here,  a  thousand  miles 
more  or  less,  receive  instructions  from  Washington,  and 
send  back  my  reports.  I  go  through  safely;  another 
might  not ;  so  I  am  my  own  messenger.  In  the  passing 
of  three  new  moons,  as  the  Indian  counts,  I  shall  again 
be  in  the  Valley  of  Santa  Clara." 

The  big  man  laughed  again. 

"You  go  through  safely,  you  say.    Are  you  sure?" 

"Absolutely.  My  dare-devils  respect  the  man  who 
is  not  afraid  of  them.  Besides,  I  travel  a  country  the 
chiefs  of  which  are  sworn  Indian  brothers  to  me." 

"And  you  trust  them — these  wild  Indians  of  the 
mountains?"  ' 

"Again  I  say,  absolutely." 


192    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  hope  your  faith  is  not  misplaced." 

"It  is  not.  Mendoza,  I  have  been  for  ten  years  among 
these  fierce  tribes.  From  them  I  learned  the  moods  of 
the  desert  and  the  paths  that  conquer  the  mountains. 
Their  tents  were  mine,  and  they  shared  their  food  with 
me.  I  came  to  know  the  Indian  heart,  and  was  willing 
to  become  blood  brother  with  their  chiefs.  Yes,  I  trust 
them  absolutely." 

"Blood  brother?" 

"It  is  a  covenant  of  friendship.  I  am  as  sure  it  will 
not  be  broken  as  I  am  that  Kit  Carson  will  keep  word 
and  meet  me  beyond  the  high  mountains  a  month  hence." 

"But  this  covenant  of  friendship — this  becoming  a 
blood  brother — how  did  you  manage  it?" 

"By  transfusion  of  blood  from  their  veins  to  mine. 
The  medicine  men  are  surgeons — of  a  kind ;  the  arm 
veins  supply  the  blood." 

Mendoza  looked  closely  at  the  frontiersman.  "You 
are,  then,  an  Indian  leader." 

"I  have  the  long  hair  of  a  chief,  as  you  see.  I  allow 
my  beard  to  grow,  also,  which  the  natives  cannot  do,  to 
show  I  am  a  chief  of  chiefs." 

"A  chief  of  chiefs !  What  of  Yoscolo  ?  Is  he  included 
in  this  unique  brotherhood?" 

"No ;  decidedly  no.  Yoscolo  disdains  Indian  virtues, 
replacing  them  by  white  men's  wickedness." 

"Will  you  be  safe  from  him  on  this  journey?" 

"My  friends  would  harry  him  out  of  the  Sierras,  and 
down  to  these  valleys  where  he  would  meet  destruction 
at  the  hands  of  your  riflemen." 

"Very  good,  friend  O'Donnell.     But  I  am  keeping 


A  HORSEBACK  RIDE  193 

you  too  long.  I  will  come  to  the  point  now.  I  detained 
you  from  an  early  start  on  that  long  road  of  yours  for 
an  important  matter.  The  English  have  been  very  ac 
tive  in  creating  a  sentiment  here  favorable  to  annexing 
our  province  to  Great  Britain." 

"There  are  many  signs  of  their  activity ;  but  others 
have  been  active  too." 

"It  is  time  your  government  should  survey  roads  be 
tween  California  and  your  westernmost  outpost." 

The  large  man  sprang  to  his  feet.  "Capital,  Men- 
doza !  Capital,  sir !  It's  good  to  hear  you  say  that.  I 
didn't  expect  it  so  soon.  Will  you  put  it  down  in  writ 
ing,  and  sign  your  name  to  it?" 

"Assuredly.  I  will  also  do  my  part  toward  welcom 
ing  settlers  from  your  republic  when  the  roads  are 
built." 

"Famous !  Famous !  That  is  exactly  what  I  wanted 
you  to  say  every  time  we've  met.  It's  worth  the  hin 
drance  in  my  journey  to  hear  news  like  that."  Then, 
suddenly,  "Something  special  has  happened  to  bring 
you  to  this  conclusion.  What  is  it?  I've  been  debating 
for  weeks  with  you,  and  with  no  apparent  result." 

Q'Donnell  seated  himself.  A  peon  had  come  in  re 
sponse  to  a  signal  from  Mendoza. 

"Aguardiente  and  cigarros,"  the  master  ordered. 

"I  can  talk  better  when  smoking,"  offering  the  other 
a  light. 

"Very  well,  I  listen  better." 

They  smoked  for  a  little  while  without  speaking. 

"You  know,  personally,  Farquharson,  England's 
special  representative  here,  if  I  remember  rightly," 


194    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Mendoza  breaking  the  silence,  his  eyes  intently  stuclpng 
his  guest. 

"I  have  not  seen  him  for  many  years,  but  I  once 
knew  him  well  enough.  He  has  been  as  busy  as  a  bee 
for  several  months." 

"Very  true;  but  the  other  British  agent,  Senora 
Valentino,  is  still  more  active — of  course  you  know  all 
about  it.  By  the  way,  was  Yoscolo  alone  in  the  abduc 
tion  of  Farquharson  a  day  or  two  ago  in  Monterey? 
Can  you  tell  me?  You  know  he  was  abducted,  of 
course." 

O'Donnell  gave  a  roar  of  laughter,  and  smoked  vigor 
ously. 

"It  seems  to  me  I  did  hear  something  of  it.  In  fact, 
for  a  while  everybody  was  inquiring  for  this  lost  Eng 
lishman.  I  ran  into  his  servant  who  was  ranging  Mon 
terey  and  shouting  for  his  'Cap'n.'  I  believe  he  found 
him  too." 

"It  seemed  to  me  that  it  was  a  little  beyond  even 
Yoscolo's  talents  to  play  such  a  game  in  Monterey  city 
unless  some  white  man  had  encouraged  him." 

The  big  man  was  greatly  amused.  "To  tell  the  truth, 
Senor  Mendoza,  it  was  I  who  was  in  a  measure  back 
of  that  game." 

"I  thought  as  much." 

"You  see  Farquharson  came  across  the  Indian  several 
months  ago,  and  played  for  his  good  offices.  Not  a  bad 
idea,  for  a  power  of  renegades  followed  him.  All  of 
Yoscolo's  Indians  were  to  declare  for  English  sov 
ereignty — much  they  know  what  it  is.  Yoscolo  wanted 
money — the  clever  rascal.  He  made  the  capture  as  near 


A  HORSEBACK  RIDE  195 

Farquharson's  banker  as  possible — a  suggestion  of 
mine.  I  figured  that  Farquharson  deserved  to  lose  his 
money  for  his  attempt  at  bribery.  But  the  Englishman 
slipped  the  toils.  I  heard  Yoscolo  nearly  had  a  fit 
when  the  news  reached  him." 

"You  do  not  like  Farquharson  personally?" 

A  gust  of  anger  came  over  O'Donnell's  face.  "No ! 
No !  The  Englishman  is  my  enemy  for  something  that 
occurred  years  ago  in  old  Ireland." 

"I  too  knew  Farquharson  many,  many  years  ago.  I 
have  not  seen  him  in  late  times.  I  blamed  him  once  for 
an  act  that  reflected  on  his  judgment.  Later  he  greatly 
distinguished  himself  at  Waterloo.  I  am  surprised  that 
he  would  stoop  to  bribery.  In  fact,  the  manner  of  pro 
cedure  of  the  English  agents  here  has  not  disposed  me 
to  their  cause." 

"So  much  the  worse  for  England,  and  so  much  the 
better  for  the  United  States,"  O'Donnell  commented. 

"Good  friend  O'Donnell,  I  favor  the  United  States 
in  the  present  matter  because  they  reach  two  thirds 
across  the  continent  to  us  already ;  because  their  gov 
ernment  appeals  to  me ;  and,  last  but  not  least,  because 
their  agent,  Sefior  O'Donnell,  is  not  attempting  to  rush 
our  people  like  sheep  into  the  American  fold." 

"Three  cheers  for  you,  Sefior  Mendoza !  Speak  these 
words  from  the  housetops.  Your  patriotism  will  soon 
equal  my  own.  The  Irish  and  the  Spanish  are  always  of 
one  heart  anyway." 

"Some  time  ago  I  told  you  that  if  I  played  in  this 
political  game,  I'd  use  the  trump  that  meant  the  most 
to  the  province  of  California.  I  am  far  from  forward- 


196    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

ing  my  own  interest  in  thus  doing."  He  went  to  a  secre 
tary  and  took  therefrom  a  bulky  envelope.  Opening  it 
he  handed  to  O'Donnell  several  papers,  one  of  which 
read: 

"On  recommendation  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
Jesus  Maria  y  Jose  Mendoza,  of  Mission  San  Jose, 
California,  is  tendered  the  office  of  major-general  in  the 
army  of  Great  Britain,"  and  mentioning  in  highest 
encomium  Mendoza's  masterful  service  from  Talavera 
to  the  fall  of  Toulouse  which  crushed  Napoleon,  and 
sent  him  to  Elba.  The  document  was  signed  and  sealed 
by  high  officials  of  the  kingdom. 

The  other  papers  were  personal  letters  from  Welling 
ton,  the  dates  of  which  ran  through  many  years,  urging 
Mendoza  to  accept  promotion  and  offering  to  advance 
him  in  every  way  should  he  come  to  England. 

O'Donnell  scanned  the  Administrator  critically.  "Yet 
you  remained  with  this  province?" 

"Yes.  I  cast  my  lot  with  California,  and  with  her 
I  shall  live.  An  English  protectorate  would,  without 
doubt,  be  more  to  my  own  personal  advantage;  how 
ever,  I  favor  American  rule  here." 

"But,  Sefior  Mendoza,  how  about  your  neighbors, 
north  and  south?"  All  at  once  the  Irishman  sat  erect, 
suddenly  realizing  the  full  meaning  of  the  words  he  had 
read.  "A  major-general  in  the  British  army!"  He 
looked  admiringly  at  Mendoza.  "At  my  best  I  was  but 
a  grenadier-sergeant." 

"Friend  O'Donnell,  my  neighbors,  north  and  south, 
are  playing  'Follow  the  leader'  in  no  small  way.  Senora 
Valentino,  sister-in-law  of  our  acting-governor,  Barcelo, 


A  HORSEBACK  RIDE  197 

is  the  leader.  She  has  cleverly  brought  them  to  the 
mountain  top,  and  down  the  side  they  must  go,  by  their 
own  impetus — unless,  O'Donnell,  we  hold  them  back." 

"I  know  of  this  senora.  Young  Pcralta  raves  over 
her.  Carillo  sings  of  her  cleverness  and  beauty.  The 
ladies  vow  she  is  a  breath  of  old  Madrid  come  to  en 
liven  the  air  of  far-away  provincial  California." 

"The  senora  is  a  very  clever  and  a  very  beautiful 
woman,"  added  Mendoza.  "In  Mexico  I  heard  that  she 
was  coming  here.  She  is  famous  on  three  continents  as 
a  most  successful  diplomatist.  I  can  well  believe  she 
deserves  the  reputation." 

"I'm  sure  of  it — more  than  sure  of  it." 

"Last  night  in  my  house  my  friends  declared  for  the 
English  flag.  I  advised  consideration.  She  adroitly 
opposed.  Her  wishes  carried.  An  attempt  will  be  made 
to  have  the  English  government  take  possession  at  once. 
We  must  forestall  them,  O'Donnell." 

"By  my  faith !    By  my  faith !  we  must !" 

"I  love  California  too  much  to  see  her  tossed  pre 
cipitously  into  any  hands,  be  it  English  or  American." 

The  Irishman  stormed  back  and  forth  over  the  floor. 

Mendoza  continued:  "I  have  a  plan,  but  the  carry 
ing  it  out  would  delay  for  some  time  your  journey 
across  the  mountains." 

"Carson  awaits  my  coming,  if  I  delay  a  month.  What 
is  your  plan?" 

"To  find  just  where  the  American  fleet  is;  catch  the 
attention  of  your  commodore ;  then  call  him  for  con 
sultation  with  some  of  us  here  who  have  not  been  swept 
off  our  feet  by  the  clever  Senora  Valentino." 


198    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Three  days  ago  the  fleet  stood  into  the  scimitar- 
shaped  bay  west  of  here,  Commodore  Billings  in  com 
mand.  He  had  sighted  the  British  fleet  off  Callao, 
Peru,  and  scudded  ahead  of  them." 

"Bueno!   Bueno !" 

"I'll  get  in  touch  with  Billings  as  soon  as  I  can." 

"Let  him  run  his  ships  till  he  can  anchor  off  some 
spot  nearest  San  Jose  Mission." 

"The  sooner  I  see  the  Commodore  the  better.  Will 
you  send  a  messenger  to  my  camp  telling  my  braves  to 
wait  there  till  further  orders?" 

"To  be  sure." 

"Well,  now  to  the  saddle.  I  set  out  on  horseback  to 
overtake  an  ocean-going  fleet.  Ha  !  ha !  ha  !"  the  Irish 
man's  wit  coming  to  the  fore. 

"At  least  not  till  after  breakfast." 

"I've  breakfasted  already ;  thank  you,  senor.  Adios  !" 

"Wait  a  minute.  Tell  me,  have  you  been  instru 
mental  in  keeping  Yoscolo  from  molesting  our  herds  and 
our  servants  in  the  San  Joaquin?  It  must  be  some 
unusual  influence,  that  has  held  him  quiet  this  long." 

"I've  threatened  him  with  a  trouncing  from  the 
strong  tribes  in  the  interior  if  he  continues  his  devil 
tries.  He  met  our  chiefs  in  a  great  powwow  in  the 
Sierras  and  spoke  of  peace  to  them,  in  the  voice  of 
a  cooing  dove.  They  do  not  trust  him;  neither  do  I. 
I'll  deliver  the  thrashing  if  he  breaks  his  word." 

"I  greatly  regret,  Senor  O'Donnell,  that  our  Cali 
fornia  valleys  did  not  know  you  years  ago." 

"The  regret  is  mutual." 

They  passed  out  to  the  courtyard  gate. 


A  HORSEBACK  RIDE  199 

The  house  guests  were  returning  from  cool  dips  in 
the  swimming  ponds,  according  to  custom ;  then  break 
fast  ;  then  rest. 

"Who  is  the  stranger  with  our  host?"  one  duena 
asked  of  another. 

"Doubtless  some  trader  in  tallow." 

"Even  the  early  morning  after  the  baile  leaves  not  the 
sefior  free  from  their  intrusion." 

The  men  parted. 


CHAPTER  XV 
SENORA  VALENTINO  MAKES  A  REPORT 

AP',  if  I  do  admit  it,  I  never  saw  such  a.  place 
as  this  for  growin'  things.  Look  at  that  grass. 
The  finest  hay  in  America  could  be  cut  there  in  way 
less  than  a  month.  Good  oat,  too,  every  spear  of  it. 
Reckon  'twill  pretty  much  go  to  waste.  Durn  shame 
it  is.  Wish  I  had  a  hundred  of  them  acres  back  in  old 
Missouri.  Whew !" 

Early  in  the  morning  Brown  and  his  employer  had 
ridden  down  the  hills  skirting  the  eastern  rim  of  Santa 
Clara  valley,  and  were  laboriously  making  their  way 
through  the  luxuriant  growths  of  that  fertile  section. 

"I  am  not  sure  these  acres  will  not  be  as  valuable  one 
day  where  they  are  as  they  would  be  in  your  native  sec 
tion,"  returned  Farquharson. 

"Put  in  your  wheat,  rye  or  barley  here,"  continued 
Brown;  "raise  your  crop.  Then  where  be  ye?  Nobody 
round  to  buy  you  up  and  pay  you  money.  We're  too 
durn  fur  away  here,  Cap',  for  the  country  to  be 
more'ii  bird  ranges — yes,  bird  ranges,  where  the  blessed 
little  fellers  can  warble  and  chatter  from  daylight  to 
their  bedtime." 

"Brown,  what  would  you  think  if  I  predict  that  in  a 
short  time  colonists  will  come  here,  men  understanding 

200 


SENORA  VALENTINO  REPORTS         201 

farming  and  tree  culture,  to  make  this  Western  country 
their  home?" 

Brown  shook  his  head.  "If  they  double  our  tracks, 
Cap'  from  Santa  Fe  here,  they'll  need  their  fairy 
boots.  Mighty  rough  trail  we  followed,  and  it's  no 
smoother  yet,  I  reckon.  Besides,  there's  a  sight  of 
country  between  Santa  Fe  and  civilization  east  of  there 
which  must  be  traveled  some  way.  No,  Cap',  white 
men  will  shy  this  land  for  many  a  day,  to  my  thinking. 
Durn  sorry,  too.  Wish  it  wasn't  so  blame  far  from 
everywhere." 

"But  men  can  come  here  by  water,"  suggested  Farqu- 
harson. 

"That  depends  where  they  start  from.  Quite  a  jour 
ney  to  here  by  water  from  Saint  Louis,  Missouri." 

"No  farther  than  England  is  from  California. 
Brown,  it  would  not  surprise  me  if,  before  many  years, 
shiploads  of  people  from  England  will  be  tilling  farms 
right  here  in  this  Santa  Clara  valley." 

They  were  coming  into  the  grounds  of  the  Calderon 
hacienda.  The  white  buildings  gleamed  in  the  morning 
light.  The  rolling  hills  formed  a  green  background. 
Peons  were  going  forth  to  the  fields,  at  work  in  the 
gardens,  or  busy  about  their  adobe  cottages  which  nes 
tled  near  the  home  of  their  master. 

"Stay  by  the  horses,  Brown,  while  I  enter,"  said 
Farquharson. 

"Just  as  you  say,  Cap'." 

The  Englishman  sought  the  entrance  of  the  mansion 
and  inquired  for  Senora  Valentino. 

"The  senora  met  with  an   accident   this   morning," 


202    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

said  one  of  the  Senoritas  Calderon  who  met  him.  "She 
is  resting.  Last  night  there  was  a  baile  at  Seiior  Men- 
doza's,  in  Mission  San  Jose.  She  was  there  and  has 
slept  almost  none  till  the  present." 

"Was  the  accident  serious?"  solicitude  in  his  voice. 

"Not  serious,  but  painful." 

"If  you  announce  that  Captain  Farquharson  would 
like  words  with  her,  I  am  sure  she  will  not  feel  herself 
disturbed.  It  is  really  of  great  importance  that  I  see 
her." 

"What  is  it,  querida?"  asked  Seiiora  Calderon, 
coming  to  the  outer  hall. 

"A  senor  caller  to  see  Sefiora  Valentino,  mamita." 

"She  is  nearly  dropping  for  sleep,  senor,  as  are  we 
all.  Besides,  her  hand  is  wounded." 

"I  saw  your  horse,  Captain  Farquharson,  from  my 
window,  between  winks.  I  had  thought  to  catch  an 
hour's  sleep  before  you  came.  I  am  glad  you  are  so 
prompt,  though."  Senora  Valentino  stood  in  the  door 
way.  Then  to  Senora  Calderon ^  and  her  daughter,  she 
said,  "Friends,  I  made  an  engagement  to  speak  with 
the  senor  caballero  this  morning." 

"Pardon,  senora.  Pardon,  senor,"  from  the  Cal- 
derons  together.  "We  leave  you." 

"Well?"  from  Farquharson, when  the  others  were  gone. 

"You  have  said  it,"  Senora  Valentino  replied.  "It 
is  well." 

"Tell  me  about  it." 

"In  the  first  place,  the  Friar  Lusciano  Osuna  has 
decided  for  active  service." 

"Good  news,  senora." 


SENORA  VALENTINO  REPORTS         203 

"The  power  of  his  words  is  overwhelming.  He  will 
be  most  valuable  in  winning  Baja  California  to  our 
cause.  He  came  to  see  that  English  rule  would  be  a 
fostering  one  to  his  Indian  wards.  On  no  other  ground 
would  he  take  part  with  us." 

"But  why  do  we  need  his  work  in  Baja  California 
more  than  in  Alta  California?" 

"Good  senor,  this  part  of  the  province  has  been  care 
fully  worked  over,  and  is  responsive.  In  comparison, 
the  lower  half  has  scarcely  been  touched.  I  have  made 
some  representations  touching  sentiment  there  which 
may  need  bolstering." 

"How?" 

"Last  night,  at  the  baile,  the  young  men,  the  most 
of  them,  were  rapturously  in  favor  of  the  English  pro 
tectorate." 

Farquharson  smiled. 

"The  elders  ardently  followed;  that  is,  the  majority. 
A  few  hard-headed  ones  were  obdurate.  Mendoza,  as 
I  expected,  was  as  set  as  a  sheet  anchor." 

"Yes,  senora." 

"The  greater  number  had  arrived  at  that  acute 
moment  of  mental  tenseness  when  some  outward  act 
becomes  a  positive  necessity.  The  dynamic,  while  thus 
agitating  them,  had  set  their  consciousness  in  direction 
of  an  English  protectorate.  They  became  enthusiastic, 
perfervid,  deadly  determined  on  that  protectorate. 

"Then  Mendoza  voiced  his  desire  of  further  consid 
eration.  So  strongly  did  his  personality  affect  the 
company  that  they  were  wavering,  though  still  they 
shouted  for  England.  Mendoza's  very  will  was  swaying 


204    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

them.  The  moment  of  our  success  was  passing.  Once 
let  it  slip,  and  all  the  king's  horses  could  not  bring  it 
back  to  power  again." 

"Go  on,  senora." 

"Then  I  used  a  letter  which  Senor  Carillo  recently 
sent  me — not  reading  it,  but  interpreting  into  its  con 
tents  a  meaning  which  might  be  fairly  given,  though  I 
think  it  overtranslated  the  writer's  position.  The 
smoldering  enthusiasm  of  our  seilors  blazed  again. 

"Still  Mendoza  held  them.  I  began  to  fear  that  noth 
ing  would  come  of  the  meeting  which  had  begun  so 
auspiciously." 

Farquharson  was  very  intent. 

"Perhaps  you  remember,  Captain,  reading  in  your 
school  days  from  that  old  Latin  lesson  book,  'Viri 
Romae,'  how  the  cackling  of  geese  saved  Rome?" 

"Assuredly,"  laughed  Farquharson. 

"Well,  a  game  of  cards  saved  us  last  night.  My 
brother-in-law  had  suffered  defeat  at  cribbage,  and 
consequently  was  piqued.  I  had,  some  time  ago, 
broached  him  on  the  subject  of  our  work  here,  and  he 
was  not  favorable.  So  I  said  nothing  more  to  him. 
My  brother-in-law  rates  most  highly  his  proficiency  at 
cribbage,  and  takes  it  very  hard  if  defeated.  The  very- 
evident  hold  of  Mendoza  on  the  land  barons  seemed  to 
increase  his  ill-humor,  and  straightway  he,  acting- 
governor  as  he  is,  declared  for  England." 

"Extraordinary,  senora!     Most  extraordinary!" 

"His  words  threw  the  Californians  into  a  frenzy. 
They  cast  aside  all  restraint,  and  boldly  declared  for 
an  English  protectorate. 


SENORA  VALENTINO  REPORTS         205 

"Young  Peralta,  with  the  Senors  Hernandez  and  Va 
lencia,  were  appointed  a  committee  to  meet  the  British 
representatives  at  Monterey,  and  to  arrange  for  the 
fleet  to  take  possession  of  the  capital.  I  would  rather 
they  had  waited  for  this  till  we  had  brought  Baja  Cali 
fornia  to  the  same  conviction  of  mind  that  our  friends 
reached  last  night  at  Mendoza's ;  but  I  thought  it  wiser 
not  to  oppose.  'Better  a  bird  in  the  hand  than  two  in 
the  bush,'  Captain." 

"Yes,  sefiora." 

"Now,  I'm  sure  Padre  Osuna  can  sway  our  southern 
friends  as  he  pleases,  but  the  friar  must  have  time.  If 
this  committee  comes  in  communication  with  our  ad 
miral  now,  and  he  takes  over  Monterey,  Northern  Cali 
fornia  will  applaud,  but — Southern  California  may  rise 
in  rebellion." 

"Yes,  yes." 

"Then,  our  admiral  must  not  be  found  until  we  judge 
the  time  is  ready.  Keep  him  away  from  Monterey  until 
all  sections  will  welcome  his  coming  to  raise  the  British 
flag  on  Monterey  castle." 

"Of  course  our  government  expects  us  to  do  our  part 
before  summoning  Admiral  Fairbanks  to  do  his.  The 
Admiral  will  not  appear  officially  until  that  time." 

"You  have  the  idea,  my  Captain.  The  committee 
goes  to  Monterey,  when  it  chooses ;  the  fleet  comes  when 
we  choose." 

"Will  Mendoza  and  the  others  like-minded  make  any 
counter  move?  Could  you  determine  anything  as  to 
that?" 

"No,  nothing,,  possibly  because  they  may  have  noth- 


206    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

ing  in  mind  to  do.  I  spoke  both  to  Zelaya  and  to  Hi- 
guera.  I  think,  Captain,  they  are  an  army  with  guns 
spiked.  Yet,  we  must  not  relax  until  California  becomes 
British  territory." 

"You  say  truly,  senora.  Admiral  Fairbanks's  fleet 
reached  San  Diego  last  week.  Shortly  he  will  anchor 
in  the  little  bay  north  of  Yerba  Buena,  where  Francis 
Drake  is  believed  to  have  sojourned.  We  will  keep  in 
touch  with  Fairbanks,  and  his  ships  will  take  possession 
of  this  province  when  the  right  moment  comes ;  that  is, 
when  the  people  call  aloud  for  it." 

"A  wise  captain !" 

"Tell  me,  senora,  what  of  Morando?  We  have 
thought  it  well  to  bring  high  office  within  his  reach. 
Now,  what  was  his  part  in  last  night's  victory?" 

"He  favors  retaining  the  old  ideals  which  Spain  pre 
sented  to  all  the  New  World  provinces  that  she  has 
settled." 

"Yes,  yes ;  let  them  be  retained.  But  the  present 
and  great  question?  Did  he  stand  by  your  side  or 
Mendoza's?" 

The  lady  bit  her  lip.  "His  steps  found  middle 
ground." 

"Zounds;  lady!    Do  you  mean  he  is  half-hearted?" 

"I  will  tell  you,  sefior.  He  is  a  Spaniard  who  has  left 
the  mother  country  for  this  wider  field;  nevertheless, 
he  is  a  Spaniard,  and  he  can  never  become  English." 

"He  is  welcome  to  remain  the  Spaniard  in  sentiment. 
Politically,  however,  he  can  be  English.  Is  he  different 
from  the  scores  who  last  night  declared  for  England?" 

She  did  not  reply. 


SENORA  VALENTINO  REPORTS         207 

"Does  he  look  for  a  government  different  from  the 
one  to  which  his  California  brethren  enthusiastically 
turn?" 

Senora  Valentino  colored.  "Captain  Morando  last 
night  promised  me  to  stand  by  Castilian  manhood  and 
womanhood.  Hand  and  glove  he  declared  it.  Further 
he  did  not  go.  Try  as  I  might  he  advanced  nothing. 
The  ruling  thought  of  the  hour  passed  him  by." 

<fYou  astonish  me." 

"He  is  as  deeply  in  love  with  Carmelita  Mendoza  as 
ever.  His  feet  press  after  her  everywhere."  The 
senora's  own  foot  tapped  the  floor  impatiently. 

"For  this  reason  he  favors  Mendoza's  reactionary 
tactics,  you  think?" 

"I  think  his  mind  has  never  got  very  far  beyond  the 
fair  Carmelita  herself." 

"A  young  and  handsome  fellow,  my  senora,  makes 
love  as  easily  as  he  talks.  About  as  easily  is  it  accepted 
— and  forgotten." 

"I  do  not  think  Morando's  attitude  toward  the  Seno- 
rita  Mendoza  can  thus  be  described." 

"Quite  possibly,  senora,  quite  possibly.  Now,  we  had 
determined — it  was  your  suggestion,  by  the  way — to 
make  this  young  man  governor  and  commander  here 
when  the  time  comes.  A  splendid  idea !  All  California 
will  be  proud  of  their  handsome  and  brilliant  leader. 
Our  English  colonists,  when  they  arrive,  will  admire  the 
soldier.  A  future  of  great  usefulness  and  power  awaits 
him.  Why  not  find  occasion,  as  you  know  him  well,  to 
tell  him  cf  these  things,  and  make  him  one  of  us?" 

"It  is  in  vain." 


208    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"And  why?" 

"I  did  tell  him.  We  rode  together  from  Mission  San 
Jose  to  this  place." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"He  said  he  contemplates  soon  leaving  California 
forever." 

"Most  unaccountable,  sefiora,  most  unaccountable! 
But — a  man  like  Morando  does  not  cast  aside  such 
prospects  of  high  honors  and  power  unless  some  strong 
counter  attraction  prompts  him.  Well — if  he  leaves, 
we  must  find  someone  to  take  his  place." 

Farquharson  arose.  "I  hope  your  hand  will  not 
trouble  you  seriously.  When  do  you  return  to  Mon 
terey?" 

"I  remain  a  day  or  two  with  the  Calderons,  then  I 
go  home." 

"Allow  me  to  congratulate  you  again  on  your  success 
of  last  night.  Directly  I  see  Fairbanks  I  will  send  or 
bring  you  word.  Good  morning,  senora.  My  best 
wishes  to  you." 

The  lady  bade  him  farewell  and  watched  him  mount, 
the  voluble  Brown  declaring,  "These  roses  have  spread 
out  two  inches  while  you've  been  gone,  Cap'." 

She  waved  another  farewell,  and  turned  again  to  the 
reception  room.  "I  win  provinces,"  she  thought,  "yet 
I  am  alone,  alone.  People  crowd  around  me,  yet  am  I 
lonely.  I  envy  the  peona  we  met  this  morning.  I  envy 
her  the  brood  of  pocos  ninos,  her  absent  husband,  and, 
above  all,  God  of  my  soul!  her  contentment.  If  the 
world  were  mine  I  would  give  it  for  that !" 

She  went  slowly  to  her  room  and  closed  the  door, 


SENORA  VALENTINO  REPORTS         209 

then  turned  to  the  mirror.  It  showed  the  faultless  face 
and  form  of  a  beautiful  woman.  "It  is  all  to  win 
provinces  ! — nothing  but — provinces." 

She  remained  long  in  thought. 

"Nothing  but  provinces!" 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  SENORITA  OF  THE  WINDOW  PANE 

THE  fog  lifted  from  Monterey  Bay,  for  a  few  fleet 
ing  moments  hung  in  aerial  battlements  over  land 
and  water,  then  dissolved  in  the  alchemic  sun-rays.  The 
blue  stretches  of  water  laughed  and  sang  on  the  beach. 
Soft  southern  winds  purred  among  the  crags  which 
edged  the  ocean,  rustled  the  tree  branches,  waved  the 
flowers,  rested  on  the  tiled  roofs  of  the  white  city,  and 
fanned  the  calm-souled  populace. 

Another  day  had  begun  in  the  capital. 

It  was  some  minor  feast  day.  The  bells  of  the  church 
on  the  town  outskirts  rang  their  call  to  service.  A 
moment's  silence.  In  the  distance  a  clear  note  sounded, 
its  limpid  melody  clinging  in  the  air.  Another  note, 
and  yet  another,  and  another,  until  the  breath  of  the 
countryside  was  resonant.  It  was  the  chimes  of  San 
Carlos  Carmelo,  a  league  away. 

A  young  officer  rode  slowly  along  El  Camino  Real 
leading  into  Monterey  from  the  north.  A  dozen  or 
more  mounted  carbineers  followed  him. 

Peon  children  stared  curiously  at  the  uniformed  men, 
and  whispered  among  themselves  of  the  great  caballero 
whose  scabbard  clinked  against  his  silver-mounted  stir 
rup  with  each  forward  movement  of  the  horse. 

"Whither  bound,  Sefior  Capitan  Morando?"  called  a 
group  of  churchgoers. 

£10 


THE  WINDOW  PANE  211 

"To  the  house  of  Colonel  Barcelo." 

"The  Colonel  and  his  senora  are  already  in  the 
church,'9  some  one  said. 

The  Captain  bowed  and  smiled,  but  continued  his 
way. 

He  led  his  men  to  the  square,  then  walked  to  the 
Barcelo  mansion. 

Benito,  the  porter,  guarded  the  entrance. 

"Have  my  unworthy  eyes  the  honor  of  beholding  Cap 
tain  Morando,  of  San  Jose?" 

"I  am  Captain  Morando,  and  I  wish  to  see  Senora 
Valentino." 

"I  am  honored  to  lead  you  within."  The  man  bowed 
low.  "The  senora  is  in  the  reception  hall." 

He  conducted  Morando  to  a  large  room  opening 
directly  on  the  courtyard.  Wide  doors  lying  ajar  in 
vited  the  refreshing  air  to  enter,  as  well  the  morning 
sun. 

"The  Captain  Morando,"  the  porter  announced. 

"You  are  taking  the  sun,  I  see,  senora." 

"At  my  lazy  ease,  Captain.     Please  be  seated." 

They  chatted  for  a  little  on  different  topics,  till  she 
said: 

"Captain  Morando,  I  spoke  to  you,  the  morning  after 
Mendoza's  baile,  of  the  combined  civil  and  military 
governorship  of  California  when  England  comes.  I 
sent  for  you  to-day  that  I  might  talk  this  matter  over 
further  with  you." 

"I  am  highly  flattered  to  call  on  Senora  Valentino. 
A  delightful  woodland  ride  is  followed  by  this  more  than 
delightful  meeting."  The  young  man  placed  his  hand 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

on  his  breast  and  inclined  gracefully  to  the  lady.  She 
acknowledged  the  compliment  by  a  single  movement  of 
the  head. 

"You  do  not  forget  that  you  have  come  this  morning 
along  El  Camino  Real — the  King's  Highway  ?" 

"It  is  fit,  truly,  to  be  the  highway  of  a  king." 

"Our  Captain  is  appreciative.     No?" 

"In  the  past  months  I  have  followed  it  from  San 
Diego  to  Sonoma,  and  have  seen  something  of  the  mag 
nificent  framework  of  which  this  highway  is  the  verte 
bra." 

The  lustrous  brown  eyes  smiled  at  him.  "It  has  been 
traveled  by  vice-regal  governor  and  Mexican  envoy. 
This  room  received  them.  On  that  dais,"  pointing  to  a 
platform  at  the  end  of  the  apartment,  "obeisance  has 
been  paid  from  the  noblest  the  land  held." 

"Ah !  this,  then,  was  the  state  reception  room,"  look 
ing  about  with  interest. 

"Those  straight-backed  chairs  along  the  wall  held 
waiting  grandees  when  California  belonged  to  Spain ; 
and  governors  for  this  province  were  sent  from  the 
homeland.  Privy  councils  were  held  here.  Agreements 
of  state  were  formulated  and  signed  here.  Much  of  the 
history  of  California  was  made  in  this  place.  The 
house,  from  being  the  governmental  palace,  passed,  in 
Mexican  times,  to  private  ownership." 

"O,  I  see,  senora." 

"Captain,  the  old  days  must  have  been  glorious,  but, 
after  all,  they  were  but  seeds  of  more  significant  times. 
The  new  governor  will  have  vastly  greater  opportunity 
than  the  others  ever  dreamed  of." 


THE  WINDOW  PANE  213 

"I  cannot  doubt  it,  senora." 

"Then,  my  Captain,  be  the  first  English  governor  in 
Monterey.  The  office  will  be  yours  for  the  taking." 

"You  speak  to  me,  senora,  of  high  office  endowed  with 
great  power  ready  to  my  hand.  Mindful  as  I  am  of 
your  consideration,  I  could  not,  if  I  would,  accept  a 
place  for  which  I  have  had  no  training,  and  for  which 
I  feel  no  aptitude." 

"A  modest  captain!  Your  words  do  you  credit,  my 
soldier.  But,  you  have  not  yet  looked  on  all  sides  of  the 
question.  You  would  be  the  front  of  the  incoming  ad 
ministration.  Back  of  you  would  stand  men  who  have 
had  experience  in  applied  statecraft,  but  who  lack  the 
unusual  qualifications  you  possess  successfully  to  rep 
resent  English  rule  to  the  residents  of  this  province." 

"Still,  senora,  I  would  be  occupying  a  position  in 
which  I  would  be  entirely  inexperienced." 

"But  think,  Captain;  consider.  With  time  comes 
the  experience." 

"Again  I  thank  you,  senora.  But,  when  I  feel  free 
to  do  so  I  shall  leave  California  and  seek  a  career  else 
where." 

"California  needs  you.  Castilian  ideals  and  Cas- 
tilian  faith  need  you." 

"I  shall  fail  no  duty,  senora." 

"But  the  governorship?"  persistently. 

"Senora,  my  friend,  may  I  ask  you  to  believe  me 
when  I  say  I  could  not  accept  it." 

"Well,  Captain,  the  formal  offer,  nevertheless,  will 
come  to  you  in  a  short  time." 

She  touched  a  bell.     Her  maid  entered. 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Atila,  please  bring  us  coffee  and  some  of  those 
dulces  for  which  Alfonsa,  the  cook,  is  so  famous." 

The  girl  soon  reappeared  with  a  small  table  covered 
with  a  white  cloth,  and  on  which  was  dainty  china  ready 
for  the  serving.  A  pot  of  steaming  coffee  and  a  plate 
of  freshly  made  sweet  cake  were  added.  A  small  vase 
of  purple  violets  furnished  adornment. 

Gentle  breezes  stole  into  the  room,  carrying  with 
them  the  nestling  of  the  leaves  in  the  patio  and  the 
perfume  of  the  growing  things. 

"What  a  land  of  enchantment  you  have  at  your  very 
side!"  indicating  the  out-of-doors. 

"Sometimes  I  fancy  this  to  be  a  wishing-chair,"  in 
dicating  the  one  on  which  she  was  sitting.  "Then  the 
patio  becomes  unique.  I  often  sit  by  the  hour,  and 
frame  around  it  pictures  of  life  as  I  would  like  to  live 
it.  That  space  outside  is  transformed  into  a  jungle, 
the  birds,  my  brothers  and  sisters,  while  the  riotous 
colors  embellish  the  leafy  homes  of  the  little  people. 
Sweet  woodsy  odors  refresh  me,  and  I  repose  in  the 
shady  recesses,  my  heart  singing  the  songs  of  Utopia- 
land." 

"Most  pleasing  fancies,  indeed,  my  seiiora." 

"They  are  my  refuge.  I  lose  myself  in  fancjdand 
to  crowd  out  other  and  unhappy  memories."  Her  eyes 
grew  troubled.  Her  face  lost  its  curves  of  power. 

"My  dear  Senora  Valentino,"  began  the  soldier,  his 
chivalry  touched,  "your  husband  is  gone  from  you, 
but " 

Her  gesture  stopped  him. 

"I  anticipate  your  words,  Captain.    It  is  not  what  I 


THE  WINDOW  PANE  215 

have  lost  that  makes  me  sad.  It  is  the  absence  of  what 
forms  the  warp  and  woof  of  a  woman's  life,  the  things 
I  have  never  had." 

"What  they  can  be  I  do  not  know,  senora.  I  cannot 
imagine  a  life  more  filled  than  yours,  except  for  the  loss 
of " 

Again  her  gesture  left  his  sentence  incomplete. 

"Captain  Morando,  forgive  me  if  I  say  such  words 
mock  me." 

"Senora,  the  world  is  at  your  feet.  The  bravest  and 
the  proudest  court  your  smiles.  At  that  ball  in  Madrid 
I  saw  our  commander  lead  you  to  the  king,  and  to 
gether  they  bowed  over  your  hand,  while  the  multitude 
applauded.  Can  you  not  even  now  hear  them?  'Viva! 
Viva!  the  fairest  and  gentlest  in  the  kingdom!  Viva! 
Senora  Valentino !'  " 

.  "Not  that,  Captain;  not  that,"  deprecatingly. 
"Praise  from  the  lips  fills  not  the  heart.  Five  years 
ago  a  prima  donna  thrilled  all  Europe.  King  and  sub 
ject  alike  did  her  homage.  In  Paris  the  noble  were 
honored  by  drawing  her  carriage  to  the  opera  house, 
having  detached  the  horses.  Yet  last  year  she  died 
alone  and  heartbroken." 

"But  for  you,  my  dear  lady !" 

"It  almost  overcomes  me,  Captain,  when  I  look  back 
over  my  life.  I  rarely  have  courage  to  do  so."  She 
knit  her  brows. 

"You  know  Senora  Barcelo  is  my  half  sister  only?" 
abruptly. 

"No,  I  did  not." 

"My  father  was  an  elderly  man  when  he  married  my 


216    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

mother.  His  daughter,  now  Senora  Barcelo,  was  then 
nearly  grown.  My  mother  died  when  I  was  three  years 
old,  my  father,  a  few  months  later.  I  can  scarcely  re 
member  either.  My  half  sister  married  and  went  away. 
I  was  placed  in  the  convent  of  Maria  del  Pilar,  in 
Madrid." 

"Maria  del  Pilar!" 

She  nodded. 

"I  was  in  the  division  of  the  convent  assigned  to  the 
daughters  of  hidalgo  worth.  I  was  reared  there,  on 
the  strictest  monastic  lines.  I  was  naturally  light- 
hearted.  Perhaps  my  grave  teachers  did  not  under 
stand  me,  for  they  fettered  my  spirit  by  restrictions 
most  onerous.  If  they  had  only  taken  the  little  mother 
less  child  to  their  arms  and  kissed  away  the  loneliness! 

"One  day  I  was  in  punishment  for  some  infraction  of 
discipline.  The  penalty  was  to  remain  alone  in  the 
dormitory,  on  the  topmost  floor  of  the  building.  I 
heard  martial  music  in  the  square  before  the  convent. 
I  knew  that  the  cadets  of  San  Sebastian  military  school 
were  drilling  there." 

"Why,  senora,  I " 

She  continued.  "The  windows  were  stained  except 
one  pane,  not  a  large  one,  which  had  been  broken  and 
replaced  by  plain  glass.  I  climbed  to  it — the  pane  was 
rather  high — and  witnessed  the  military  maneuvers.  I 
remember  the  captain  of  one  company  as  well  as  if  it 
were  yesterday,  his  youthful  figure  and  trim  uniform, 
his  sword  against  his  shoulder,  his  intent  face." 

Morando  was  listening  closely. 

"Whenever  I  could  I  watched  that  cadet  corps  at  its 


THE  WINDOW  PANE  217 

evolutions  on  the  plaza.  Often  I  stole  away  from  study 
to  the  dormitory. 

"One  day  the  captain  saw  me.  He  waved  his  sword. 
I  tapped  the  glass.  That  formed  a  code  of  signals." 

The  soldier  smiled. 

"The  years  went  on.  I  saw  my  young  captain  become 
a  colonel;  saw  his  smooth  lip  darken  with  mustachios. 
His  eyes  and  sword  flashed  at  me  the  first  time  he  wore 
the  colonel's  chevrons.  - 

"A  firm  hand  on  my  shoulder  startled  me  one  day. 
'Step  down,  senorita,'  came  the  voice  of  our  prefectress 
of  discipline.  'Now  let  me  see  this  great  sight!'  My 
colonel  was  waving  his  sword  toward  the  window.  He 
turned  away  when  the  new  face  came  in  view,  but  not 
in  time  to  prevent  the  sister  prefectress  seeing  the 
salutation. 

"A  council  was  called.  My  teachers  decided  that  a 
very  grave  breach  of  discipline  had  been  committed. 
The  prefectress,  even  with  inspection  from  a  nearer 
window,  could  not  designate  the  cadet  who  had  waved 
his  sword.  'How  long  has  this  continued?'  they  de 
manded.  I  told  them.  They  were  greatly  shocked. 

"I  was  ordered  to  point  out  the  military  student  who 
had  been  so  indiscreet  as  to  carry  on  flirtation  with  a 
hidalgo's  daughter  in  Pilar  Convent.  I  refused  to  do 
so,  nor  could  they  overcome  my  will.  I  feared  for  him. 
The  mother  superior  vowed  she  would  have  him  'broken.' 
She  was  the  cardinal's  sister,  and  all-powerful. 

"My  penalty  soon  came.  The  head  of  my  family,  a 
cousin,  was  called.  He  took  as  grave  view  of  my 
conduct  as  had  my  teachers.  'A  marriage  must  be  ar- 


218    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

ranged  for  the  imprudent  girl  at  once.  A  man  of  years 
and  firmness  should  be  found.  This  levity  must  yield 
to  correction,'  he  decided. 

"Colonel  Valentino  had  been  a  widower  for  several 
years.  He  was  my  cousin's  intimate  friend.  The  wed 
ding  day  was  set  before  I  even  saw  my  future  husband. 

"I  objected  to  the  marriage,  but  the  Spanish  con 
ventions  of  our  class  are  as  unyielding  as  stone.  What 
could  I  do,  but  finally  consent?  At  seventeen  I  found 
myself  married  to  a  man  old  enough  to  be  my  father. 
There  was  nothing  in  common  between  us.  He  meant 
to  be  kind.  He  was  just,  as  he  was  courageous  and 
able.  I  accompanied  him  on  diplomatic  missions  and 
learned  much,  but  knew  no  happiness.  Then  he  went  to 
Morocco,  and  death.  I  am  here  to  work  in  a  cause  I 
believe  to  be  right,  but " 

She  bowed  her  head.  "If  I  gained  the  whole  world 
for  England,  it  would  not  fill  one  empty  cranny  of  my 
heart." 

Morando  did  not  know  what  to  say  in  response. 

"I  have  never  known  a  father's  care,  nor  a  mother's 
love.  Add  to  this  unhappy  childhood.  Add  again  a 
loveless  and  childless  marriage,  and  you  have  my  life." 

"My  dear  senora !  My  dear  sefiora !"  His  words 
stopped.  He  was  standing  before  the  lady,  who  also 
arose,  her  eyes  flashing,  her  tones  vibrating. 

"I  was  in  Constantinople,  Great  Britain's  agent, 
when  the  news  came  of  Colonel  Valentino's  death.  I 
started  at  once  for  Spain.  A  storm  raged  on  the  Sea 
of  Marmora.  I  took  the  wedding  ring  from  my  finger 
and  threw  it  into  the  foam.  The  roar  of  the  tempest 


THE  WINDOW  PANE  219 

and  the  shriek  of  the  cordage  was  the  requiem  of  that 
marriage-symbol.  I  wish  I  could  bury  the  past  and 
its  memories  as  deep  as  is  buried  that  ring.  But  memo 
ries  will  not  down,"  she  went  on  passionately.  "Some 
unquiet  spirit  possesses  them.  They  trouble  my  sleep 
at  night;  they  walk  with  me  in  the  day.  And,  O,  my 
Captain,  the  future !"  She  closed  her  eyes  with  a  little 
shudder,  as  if  to  blot  out  unpleasant  sights. 

"My  dear  lady,  you  forget  what  you  are  in  the  lives 
of  others.  Even  that  embryo  soldier,  the  cadet  of  San 
Sebastian's,  welcomed  his  colonelcy  the  more  because 
the  girl-face  in  the  little  diamond  pane  would  brighten 
when  she  saw  the  uniform.  The  inspiration  to  win 
honors  came  in  no  small  degree  from  that  topmost  spot 
of  grim  old  Pilar  Convent." 

He  looked  intently  at  her,  his  voice  throbbing  with 
emotion. 

"My  senora,  have  you  known — did  you  know — do 
you  not "  '  His  voice  broke. 

She  said  nothing,  but  her  eyes  searched  his. 

"O,  senora — that  night  at  the  ball  in  Madrid — that 
night  when  you " 

"What,  my  Captain?" 

His  words  came  more  steadily. 

"When  I  saw  you  at  General  Guerrero's  ball  I  was 
beset  by  voices  from  the  past  calling  to  me,  persistently 
calling.  I  was  introduced  to  you.  The  voices  called 
louder.  Still  were  they  incoherent.  The  evening  grew. 
I  danced  with  you.  I  could  not  fathom  the  meaning 
of  that  call  which  sounded  with  increasing  insistency. 
The  days  passed.  I  concluded  that  some  wraith  of 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

dreams  had  hovered  over  me.  At  the  merienda,  when 
again  introduced  to  you,  I  did  not,  for  the  moment, 
recognize  the  Senora  Valentino  of  that  military  ball. 
You  reminded  me  of  our  previous  meeting,  which  I  im 
mediately  recalled,  the  difference  in  your  gown  explain 
ing  my  lack  of  recognition.  As  I  talked  with  you  the 
past  spoke  again  to  me,  and  in  language  I  could  not 
comprehend. 

"O,  senora,  need  I  tell  you  that  I  was  that  cadet-lad 
who  for  three  years  waved  his  sword  in  greeting  to  the 
girl  at  the  window !  I  have  never  forgotten  you." 

"But  when  the  face  did  not  again  appear  at  the 
window?" 

"I  saw  the  stern  visage  replace  yours,  and  afterward 
there  was  a  blank.  I  had  no  way  to  reach  you." 

"Yes,"  calmly,  "the  incident  was  closed.  My  be 
trothal  was  arranged,  and  you  started  on  your  cam 
paigns." 

"I  had  no  thought  punishment  would  come  to  you." 

"It  came." 

"My  dear  lady,  I  would  have  saved  you  at  any  cost 
had  I  known.  My  heart  bleeds  that  I  was  in  any  way 
the  cause  of  tragedy  in  your  life." 

"You  are  more  than  kind,  Captain." 

"I  wish  I  could  give  back  to  you  those  lost  years." 

"Your  wish  is  most  generous,  senor." 

"Before  an  unwilling  marriage  should  have  been 
forced  on  you  I  would  have  scaled  those  barbed  walls 
to  bear  you  away  with  me,  after  the  manner  of  the 
knights  of  old." 

"But  you  did  not  know.     The  walls  were  unsealed. 


THE  WINDOW  PANE 

From  the  girls'  dormitory  I  went  into  life — and  such 
a  life  it  has  been !  The  soldier-lad's  life  was  different." 

Her  bosom  was  heaving,  her  breath  coming  in  quick 
catches.  She  crumpled  into  a  chair,  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands. 

"O,  sefiora,  sefiora!"  moving  a  step  nearer. 

A  storm  of  sobbing  was  the  only  reply. 

He  knelt  by  her  side. 

"O,  senora !    My  dear  senora !" 

He  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"Look  at  me,  my  poor,  crushed  senorita  of  the  win 
dow  pane." 

She  let  one  hand  drop  to  her  side,  the  other  reached 
to  his.  The  velvet  eyes  brimming  with  tears  looked 
piteously  at  him. 

"I  ask — I  beg  of  you — O,  senora " 

Somehow  she  came  into  his  arms. 

"Until  to-day  I  never  knew  that  you  were  the  seno 
rita  of  the  window." 

"You  were  the  knight  who  went  to  the  wars  and  left 
forlorn  his  lady." 

A  fresh  sob  convulsed  her.  The  compelling  per 
sonality  of  the  sefiora  was  gone.  The  imperious,  beauti 
ful  woman  was  submerged  in  a  being  clinging  and 
tender. 

The  man  made  an  effort  to  speak,  but  his  tongue 
refused  to  obey.  Finally :  "Senora,  I  too  am  desolate. 
My  sympathy  for  you  is  yet  the  greater  because  my 
own  heart  has  been  bereft.  Senora " 

A  heavy  foot  was  on  the  vestibule  floor.  Colonel  Bar- 
celo  entered. 


222    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Benito,  the  scoundrel,  asleep  in  the  sun!  Actually 
asleep !  A  pretty  sentinel !  Ton  my  soul !  I  smell 
coffee.  I've  had  no  breakfast  and  am  hungry  as  a 
wolf." 

He  pushed  forward. 

"Why,  here's  Morando !  Glad  some  one  was  here  in 
my  place  to  entertain  you.  My  wife's  sister  hasn't  felt 
herself  since  that  confounded  affair  over  on  the  Men- 
doza  grant.  He  should  be  told  of  the  birds  of  prey 
that  infest  the  place.  Time  he  should  set  those  prize 
native  riflemen  of  his  to  killing  off  such  pests.  Ca- 
ramba !  but  that  coffee  smells  good.  Is  there  any  of  it 
left?" 

Senora  Barcelo  had  followed  her  husband  into  the 
room. 

"Crisostimo !  Why,  you  have  not  even  said  good 
morning  to  the  Captain !  Of  course  breakfast  will  be 
ready  for  us  at  once." 

"I  hope  so !  Hope  so  !  Morando,  I  heard  this  morn 
ing  the  most  wonderful  sermon  of  my  life.  Something 
I  didn't  expect  to  be  able  to  say  in  this  town.  Padre 
Osuna,  of  Mission  San  Jose,  preached.  'Suffer  little 
children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,'  was 
his  text.  Applied  it  to  the  Indians  of  the  province,  our 
duties  to  them,  and  all  that.  I've  never  been  so  near 
heaven  in  my  life  as  when  he  was  speaking.  Looked 
at  my  watch  when  he  began — force  of  habit,  you  know. 
Looked  again  when  he  finished.  'Twas  just  fifty-seven 
minutes.  I  would  have  sworn  it  wasn't  ten. 

"Come  in !"  he  called,  in  response  to  an  insistent 
knock  at  the  door. 


THE  WINDOW  PANE 

It  was  Benito. 

"A  messenger  from  Senor  Berryessa  is  at  the  outer 
gate.  He  seeks  Captain  Morando.  Renegades  last 
night  attacked  some  outlying  corrals,  killed  and 
wounded  a  number  of  vaqueros,  then  set  off  by  starlight 
toward  the  eastern  passes,  taking  many  cattle  and 
horses." 

Morando  hastened  to  the  door. 

"Pity  you  can't  stay  and  have  coffee  with  us,"  said 
Barcelo. 

The  Captain's  spurs  were  already  jingling  on  the 
pavement.  "Adios!"  he  called  back. 

"A  fine  fellow,  that !"  the  Colonel  remarked.  "Sorry 
I  was  out  when  he  first  came.  In  the  new  order  I'll 
have  men  enough  to  crush  out  the  renegades  once  for 
all.  The  Captain  won't  be  run  so  off  his  feet  then." 


CHAPTER  XVII 
O'DONNELL   SETTLES   WITH   YOSCOLO 

THE  luminous  haze  of  late  spring  lay  contentedly 
over  the  Mendoza  hacienda.  The  noon  hour  had 
come  with  its  somnolent  warmth;  and  all  nature  was 
dozing  in  the  sun,  except  the  bumblebee,  victim  of 
omnipresent  unrest,  and  the  humming  bird,  which  always 
finds  the  day  too  short  for  its  multifarious  duties. 

The  peon  workman,  in  from  the  fields,  was  satisfying 
hunger  in  his  whitewashed  cot ;  or,  the  meal  over,  was 
stretched  on  the  earthen  floor,  a  kerchief  over  his  face, 
enjoying  the  midday  siesta.  The  peona  wife  stepped 
lightly  around  tidying  the  room,  and  then  took  place  by 
her  husband's  side,  their  children  lying  tumbled  about. 

Peace  rested  on  the  Indialn  adobe  village  which 
flanked  the  hacienda  house.  Inside  the  mansion  itself 
there  reigned  the  stillness  of  night. 

A  footstep  descending  stairs  somewhere  seemed  un 
usually  loud.  Finally  a  door  opened,  making  a  grating, 
out-of-place  sound.  Sefior  Mendoza's  erect  form  ap 
peared  on  the  west  side  of  the  courtyard.  He  walked 
leisurely  toward  an  avenue  shaded  by  the  interlacing 
branches  of  thick-leafed  walnut  trees.  A  tiny  brook 
fed  by  a  spring  in  the  middle  of  the  courtyard  purled 
along  by  his  feet.  A  grateful  coolness  lifted  itself  to 
greet  him.  The  odor  of  damp  earth  mingled  pleasingly 
with  the  scent  of  flowers ;  and  from  under  the  south 


O'DONNELL  SETTLES  WITH  YOSCOLO  225 

wall  of  the  inclosure  came  the  rhythm  of  a  miniature 
waterfall  as  the  brook  lost  itself  on  the  rocks  many  feet 
beneath. 

The  senor  found  that  he  was  not  alone  in  seeking  the 
leafed  coolness  of  the  walnut  alameda.  The  Doila 
Carmelita  was  standing  at  the  end  of  the  walk  listening, 
apparently,  to  the  music  of  the  water.  Her  hair,  free 
save  where  a  golden  clasp  held  it  at  the  neck,  gave  play, 
as  it  flowed  over  her  back,  to  the  beginning  breezes  from 
the  western  sea.  The  profile  of  her  face  was  thoughtful. 
Delicate  lines  traced  the  exquisite  fullness  of  a  form 
straight  and  slender. 

"My  daughter  is  a  beautiful  woman!"  he  half  ejacu 
lated. 

Many  thoughts  ran  through  his  mind  in  panoramic 
vision.  He  recalled  the  long  gallery  in  his  father's 
castle  where  had  hung  the  pictured  forbears  of  the  de  la 
Mendoza.  Generations  were  there.  Their  characteris 
tic  form  and  features  had  descended  to  Carmelita.  No 
government  rule  could  prevent  that,  though  it  might 
vent  titles  and  confiscate  lands. 

"My  daughter  a  woman  !  A  beautiful  woman !"  The 
thought  half  startled  him. 

The  girl  turned  and  walked  toward  him. 

"Little  papa !  Little  papa  mine !  are  you  taking  the 
siesta  on  your  feet?" 

Carmelita's  slender  hands  were  on  his  broad  shoul 
ders,  and  she  was  endeavoring  to  shake  him.  Her  merry 
laugh  pealed  through  the  avenue. 

"I  smiled  at  you,  and  smiled  at  you,  and  blew  kisses 
at  you,  while  you  looked  at  me  as  if  I  were  a  thousand 


226    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

leagues  away,  and  you  deigned  never  the  least  recogni 
tion,"  standing  on  tiptoe  and  kissing  him. 

"I  was  living  again  the  years  of  very  long  ago." 

"Tell  me  about  it,  little  papa." 

She  took  his  arm,  and  together  they  walked  along  the 
avenue. 

"Tell  me  about  it,  papacito,"  she  repeated. 

"Why  are  you  not  at  the  siesta?"  disregarding  her 
question. 

She  looked  up  at  him  demurely. 

"I  did  not  care  to  sleep.  Besides,"  jestingly,  "we 
must  accustom  ourselves  to  the  ways  of  the  Americano 
who  will  soon  come  here.  You  remember  I  have  spoken 
to  you  of  Sefior  Brown,  the  man  who  was  so  thoughtful 
in  the  cave  the  night  of  the  storm?" 

He  pressed  her  arm  tenderly  in  reply. 

"I  saw  him  lately  in  San  Jose.  He  told  me,  among 
other  things,  that  Americanos  never  sleep  in  the  day, 
and  sparingly  at  night ;  indeed,  often  with  one  eye 
open."  She  laughed.  Her  father  joined. 

"The  Americanos  are  coming,  you  say?" 

The  girl  stepped  in  front  of  him,  placed  her  hands 
against  his  breast  and  looked  into  his  face. 

"Papacito  mio,  since  the  baile  you  have  slept  not  one 
night  at  home,  but  in  the  morning  returning  with  the 
travel-stains  of  much  riding.  Messengers  are  coming 
and  going  between  you  and  the  bearded  stranger  after 
whom  Benito  rode  away  so  furiously  in  that  early  morn 
ing.  I  know  my  little  father  too  well  to  think  he  will 
allow  Senora  Valencia  and  Hernandez  and  the  others 
to  have  their  way  so  easily  about  England  coming  here. 


O'DONNELL  SETTLES  WITH  YOSCOLO 

Yes,   the   Americanos    are   coming,   because   you   have 
willed  to  have  them  come.    Papacito,  I  feel  it." 

"My  child,  England,  the  greatest  power  the  world 
knows,  does  not  rely  so  much  on  Valencia  and  Her 
nandez,  nor  yet  the  others,  as  on  the  wit  of  a  very  clever 
woman,  seconded  by  Captain  Farquharson,  principal 
of  your  good  friend,  Brown." 

The  dona's  arms  fell  to  her  side.  They  resumed  their 
walk. 

"Captain  Farquharson  also  was  very  kind  the  night 
of  the  storm." 

"I  do  not  forget  that,  little  one.  When  Padre  Osuna 
came  to  me,  the  evening  of  the  baile,  with  word  that 
the  Englishman  was  in  straits,  I  intended  to  help  Far 
quharson,  even  by  placing  myself  under  obligation  to 
O'Donnell,  which  I  would  have  disliked  very  much,  at 
that  time." 

"Why,  papacito,  did  Padre  Osuna  come  to  you?" 
The  senor  smiled.     "Senora  Valentino." 
The  girl's  eyes  once  more  bent  in  thought.     "Why?" 
"Again    the   night    in    the    cave,"    he    laughed.      "I 
am  indebted  to  the  padre,  and  could  not  have  refused  his 
request  to  help  the  English  captain,  of  which  the  senora 
was  well  aware.     Immediately  I  divined  O'Donnell  to 
be  the  real  cause  of  Farquharson's  predicament,  and  I 
knew  that  he  would  gladly  grant  me  the  request,  did  I 
make  it,  to  free  the  captive.     The  lady's  mind  ran  the 
gamut  of  the  cause  and  effect." 

"It  is  like  an  endless  puzzle,  my  papa." 
"Which  the  Captain  solved  of  his  own   accord  by 
taking  himself  out  of  his  plight,  aided  by  Brown." 


223    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

They  walked  a  little  while  in  silence.  Filipo,  the  por 
ter,  looked  in  surprise  at  them  from  his  high  seat  in 
the  lodge.  Usually  he  was  the  only  person  awake  on 
the  hacienda  at  this  hour.  His  little  beady  eyes  fol 
lowed  them  up  and  down,  up  and  down  the  avenue. 

"My  daughter,"  the  father  finally  said,  "we  have 
in  California,  in  a  small  way,  an  example  of  the  game 
of  statecraft.  Europe  plays  on  a  larger  scale,  but  it 
is  the  same.  There,  as  here,  the  charm  and  brain  of 
woman  supply  the  leverage  for  overturning  states." 

"I  would  not  have  thought  Senora  Valentino  gifted 
in  that  way." 

"Six  months  ago  the  senora  and  Farquharson  were 
in  Mexico  City.  Don  Juan  Domingo  told  me  of  them. 
O'Donnell  also  was  there,  but  under  an  assumed  name. 
I  too  was  there,  though  I  saw  none  of  the  three.  The 
lady's  fame  had  followed  her  to  the  capital.  Her  hand 
has  in  no  way  lost  its  cunning  here.  The  older  men — 
well,  we  know  how  they  accepted  her  wishes  a  few  nights 
ago ;  and  the  young  men  are  at  her  feet.  No  wonder." 

Carmelita  said  nothing. 

"Senora  Valentino  has  won  the  padre  to  her  side ; 
has  influenced  the  well-poised  Carillo,  of  the  South,  and 
many  others  there.  She  has,  in  the  North,  toyed  with 
men's  intelligence  whose  balance  I  had  never  before 
doubted." 

The  girl's  eyes  were  straight  ahead.  The  father  and 
daughter  went  for  a  few  moments  without  speaking. 

The  senor  broke  the  quiet.  "Little  one,  if  by  any 
chance  future  years  shall  see  misfortune  here,  provision 
has  been  made  for  thee  across  the  seas.  The  proceeds 


O'DONNELL  SETTLES  WITH  YOSCOLO  229 

of  the  lower  hacienda,  thy  mother's,  had  she  lived,  have 
been  placed  for  thee  in  London's  Bank  of  England. 
Friends  thou  wilt  find  in  England.  Their  names  are 
written  in  my  will.  Thou  canst  find  protection  there 
always,  should  it  ever  fail  thee  here." 

"California  has  been  thy  home,  my  father,  and  it 
shall  always  be  mine." 

"A  brave  daughter  and  a  loving  one." 

It  was  some  time  before  further  conversation. 

"Thou  art  a  woman  grown.  Though  I  married  late 
in  life,  yet  may  I  still  live  to  see  thee  on  a  husband's 
arm." 

She  looked  archly  at  him.  "There  is  Don  Abelardo. 
You  know  friends  have  said  that  his  father  and  mine 
arranged  for  a  match." 

"Yes ;  but  it  is  not  true.  You  are  to  have  the  making 
of  your  own  life." 

"Papacito,  my  duena  says  that  more  and  more  are 
people  speaking  of  this  purported  engagement.  I  know, 
of  course,  how  the  story  began  with  the  peons  present 
when  Abelardo's  father  passed  away  in  your  arms ;  but, 
why  should  such  sudden  interest  arise  now?" 

"The  peons  understood  little  of  SenorPeralta's  words, 
and  spoke  much,  as  Indians  often  do.  His  utterance 
touched  the  friendship  of  his  family  and  mine,  nothing 
more.  Peralta  would  never,  have  dreamed  of  betrothing 
our  children  without  their  wish  and  consent;  nor  I  of 
entering  such  a  compact,  though  such  has  been  the 
custom  in  Spain — a  custom  truly  more  honored  in  the 
breach  than  the  observance." 

"But,  papa,  I  don't  want  this  idea  that  Abelardo  and 


230    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

I  are  engaged  to  be  married  to  get  so  widely  about. 
What  can  we  do?" 

"Do  nothing,  my  girl,  do  nothing.  Attention  paid  to 
such  things  only  nourishes  their  growth.  What  does  it 
amount  to,  anyway?" 

Filipo  came  over  to  them. 

"Captain  Morando,  and  many  with  him,  are  dropping 
down  the  steep  hills,  and  are  coming  in  this  direction. 
The  field  glass  shows  them  plainly." 

Mendoza  and  his  daughter  walked  toward  the  gate. 

"Morando  is  one  of  the  few  who  have  not  been  in 
fluenced  by  Senora  Valentino.  He  has  maintained  clear 
head  and  uncompromised  tongue.  Sword  and  glove  he 
has  declared  himself  for  Castilian  manhood  and  woman 
hood.  I  would  be  willing,  as,  indeed,  should  everyone, 
to  clasp  hands  with  the  senora  on  that  declaration;  as 
did  the  Captain  in  the  supper-room  the  night  of  the 
baile.  I  wish  all  my  friends  had  held  their  wits  against 
this  agent  of  Great  Britain  as  firmly  as  he." 

The  senorita  paled,  then  flushed. 

"Pity  that  Morando  thinks  of  leaving  California.  I 
have  it  not  directly  from  him,  but  O'Donnell  heard  him 
say  that  he  intends  to  seek  new  fields  as  soon  as  he 
can,"  continued  the  sefior. 

Morando  and  his  soldiers  rode  to  the  gate  and  saluted 
the  Mendozas. 

"I  have  several  men  who  are  rather  severely  wounded. 
May  I  leave  them  here  in  your  care  while  we  push  on 
farther?" 

"Certainly,  my  friend,  certainly.  But,  Morando, 
you  are  tired,  I  know ;  so  are  your  men.  Alight,  every 


O'DONNELL  SETTLES  WITH  YOSCOLO  231 

one  of  }rou,  for  rest  and  refreshment.  Filipo,  call  the 
servants  from  the  siesta." 

The  loud  blast  of  Filipo's  bugle  brought  life  into  the 
hacienda  house  and  around  it. 

"Muchas  gracias,  senor.  I  cannot  remain.  We  have 
been  engaging  Yoscolo  since  jester  noon.  This  morn 
ing  a  large  number  of  the  renegades  came  to  the  front 
and  fought  vigorously  for  a  time.  Then  they  scat 
tered.  Some  of  the  prisoners  have  told  us  that,  during 
the  fight,  Yoscolo  and  a  picked  body  of  his  men  doubled 
around  us,  intending  to  cut  across  the  valley,  and  make 
the  Santa  Cruz  mountains  at  La  Cuesta  de  los  Gatos. 
We  must  hurry  in  pursuit." 

"Yoscolo,  is  it?  Caramba!"  from  Mendoza.  "In 
an  hour  O'Donnell  comes  here.  I'll  guarantee  he  will 
be  glad  to  ride  with  you  after  Yoscolo." 

"I  should  be  glad  of  his  services,  but " 

"But,  wait,  Captain.  O'Donnell  will  pick  up  the 
rascal's  trail  as  no  other  man  can.  Before  night  he  will 
be  riding  in  his  heels.  Come,  Morando,  dismount.  Let 
your  men  take  the  horses  to  the  stables." 

"I  know  of  O'Donnell's  value  in  such  contests  as 
this;  but  the  trail  will  be  an  hour  colder." 

"Not  so,  Captain.  The  Indian  will  leave  false  tracks 
in  abundance.  The  Americano  frontiersman's  eyes 
will  not  be  deceived.  Better  wait,  my  friend." 

Morando  finally  consented.  The  wounded  men  were 
cared  for,  and  the  weary  men  and  horses  were  refreshed. 

Before  the  hour  was  up  the  soldiers  and  their  mounts 
were  outside  the  courtyard  gate,  ready  for  the  order  to 
advance. 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Mendoza  went  to  the  tower  searching  the  horizon 
with  a  field  glass.  The  Captain  stood  across  the  court 
yard  waiting  word  from  his  host  that  O'Donnell  had 
come  into  sight. 

Carmelita  came  out  of  a  low  door  deeply  let  into  the 
side  of  the  left  wing  of  the  house.  The  hospital  depart 
ment  of  the  hacienda  was  there.  The  girl  was  carrying 
a  flat  vessel  containing  lint  and  bandages. 

"Your  wounded  are  as  comfortable  as  possible,  Senor 
Captain,"  she  said,  as  she  passed  Morando. 

"I  thank  you  and  Senor  Mendoza  for  it." 

"Ah!  Papacito  is  looking  toward  us  and  holding 
up  his  hand  to  catch  our  attention." 

"O'Donnell  is  in  sight  a  league  away,"  Mendoza's 
voice  came  clearly  to  them. 

"Gracias,  Senor  Mendoza,"  the  soldier  called  in  re 
turn. 

The  senor  left  the  tower  and  walked  along  the  roof 
to  an  outside  staircase. 

The  girl  held  up  the  lint  and  bandages.  "The  peona 
nurses  and  I  prepared  these  for  people  injured  on  the 
rancho.  I  rejoice  that  we  had  them  ready  for  to-day." 

"Fortune  favored  us  in  being  within  such  easy  reach 
of  your  ministrations,  senorita  dona.  One  or  two  of 
the  men  could  not  have  gone  much  farther.  I  shall 
not  forget  your  kindness." 

"Not  kindness,  Senor  Capitan!  A  privilege  and  a 
duty!  We  are  here  in  our  stronghold,  while  you  are 
bearing  the  heat  and  the  burden  of  the  day.  Our  fruit 
ful  valleys  smile  the  more  happily  because  of  your  pro 
tection." 


O'DONNELL  SETTLES  WITH  YOSCOLO 

"Your  words  are  encouraging,  senorita." 

"I  want  to  be  more  than  encouraging.  I  mean  to  be 
appreciative.  I  wish  I  knew  how  to  say  more." 

"The  senorita  is  good  to  the  soldier.  In  the  name 
of  my  comrades,  I  thank  you." 

Her  face  flushed. 

"Captain,  will  you  not  be  seated?  The  shade  of  that 
fig-tree  invites  you.  The  afternoon  may  make  much 
call  on  your  strength." 

She  took  seat  on  a  rustic  chair  and  motioned  him  to 
a  bench  in  front  of  her  fashioned  around  the  tree-trunk. 

"I  am  glad  O'Donnell  will  assist  in  this  work.  He  is 
a  man  who  makes  sure  of  his  position  before  pushing 
ahead,"  spoke  Morando. 

"Is  the  good  Senor  Americano,  then,  so  infallible?" 

"Quite  so.     Still,  to  err  is  human." 

"But  to  forgive,  divine,  Senor  Captain.1" 

"Senorita  Dona,"  hesitatingly,  "perhaps  there  are 
things  humans  can  hardly  be  expected  to  forgive." 

Again  her  face  flushed,  and  she  bit  her  lip. 

"Yes — and  even  if  done  under  misapprehension." 
Her  eyes  looked  straight  at  him. 

"Of  course  the  offense  remains  despite  the  misap 
prehension — of  course  it  remains,"  from  Morando.  His 
eyes  sought  the  ground. 

Neither  spoke  for  a  moment.  Peons  were  running 
hither  and  thither.  Senor  Mendoza  had  descended  from 
the  roof  and  was  sauntering  toward  them.  Filipo's 
field  glass  pointed  along  the  road  leading  up  to  the  gate. 

"Senorita  Carmelita,  we  can  at  least  be  friends.  Is 
it  not  so?" 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Mendoza  was  at  their  side.  "Captain,  when  did  you 
irst  find  out  about  this  raid?" 

"Yesterday  morning.  I  had  ridden  to  Monterey,  to 
call  on  Senora  Valentino  where  the  messenger  came.  I 
had  some  men  with  me.  The  others  came  up  at  the 
Berryessa  rancho." 

"Yes,  Filipo,  I'm  coming,"  in  response  to  a  signal 
from  the  porter. 

Mendoza  walked  briskly  toward  the  gate. 

'"Friends !"  Carmelita  arose,  her  eyes  flashing. 

Morando  also  arose.  "I  do  not  consider  my  friend 
ship  of  light  value,  Senorita  Dona  Mendoza." 

"I  do  not  share  your  high  opinion  of  that  friendship, 
Captain  Morando." 

The  loud  challenge  of  O'Donnell's  horse  was  heard. 

"Morando !  Morando  !"    Sefior  Mendoza  called. 

"Coming  immediately,  seiior.  Good  afternoon, 
senorita  dona."  The  Captain  hastened  to  the  court 
yard  gate. 

The  senorita  went  up  to  her  room,  a  storm  raging  in 
her  heart. 

"If  Captain  Morando  dares  mention  the  name  of 
Senora  Valentino  in  my  presence  again,  I'll  forbid  him 
ever  to  speak  to  me."  She  clenched  her  hands. 

The  sound  of  many  moving  horses  under  her  window 
called  her  thoughts. 

The  soldiers  were  setting  out.  Tomaso  and  a  hun 
dred  of  Mendoza's  fighting  peons  were  with  them.  Mo 
rando  and  O'Donnell  rode  together,  in  earnest  conver 
sation. 

"The  place  to  fnd  the  scamp  is  always  where  you 


O'DONNELL  SETTLES  WITH  YOSCOLO  235 

would  least  likely  think  him  to  be,"  O'Donnell  ob 
served. 

Yoscolo's  trail  was  found  at  the  Berryessa  rancho, 
where  he  had  been  the  morning  of  the  previous  day. 
The  Indian  had  waited  some  time  to  obtain  powder  from 
a  cache  in  the  hills,  then  started  across  the  valley,  se 
cure  in  the  thought  that  Morando  and  his  men  were 
miles  away  in  the  mountains. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  he  was  overtaken 
at  La  Cuesta  de  los  Gatos,  ten  miles  south  of  San  Jose. 

At  sight  of  the  pursuers  Yoscolo  intrenched  himself 
in  a  rocky  canon,  which,  he  believed,  could  not  be  ap 
proached  by  flank  movements,  while  a  successful  frontal 
attack  seemed  impossible.  Here  he  waited,  intending 
to  slip  away  at  night. 

O'Donnell,  on  the  stallion,  followed  by  Tomaso  and 
his  peons,  scaled  the  rocky  edge  of  a  precipice,  and 
suddenly  appeared  on  a  ledge  thirty  feet  above  the 
renegades. 

"El  Diablo  !    El  Diablo  !"  they  shouted. 

A  number  of  shots  were  fired  at  O'Donnell.  He  swung 
under  the  horse's  body,  and  the  shots  went  wild. 

The  stallion  braced  its  feet  and  slid  down  the  cliff 
followed  by  the  others. 

A  terrible  hand-to-hand  conflict  was  waged.  For 
tune  would  favor  one  side,  then  the  other.  Finally,  the 
two  leaders  came  together  in  the  middle  of  the  little 
valley  at  the  head  of  the  canon.  The  giant  made  thrust 
after  thrust  of  his  lance  at  the  Indian,  who  parried  suc 
cessfully,  pressing  his  opponent  hotly  in  return. 

The  stallion's  part  in  the  combat  was  no  small  one. 


236    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

He  whirled  his  master  out  of  harm's  way,  or  pushed 
into  the  fight,  at  a  simple  turn  of  the  rein. 

Yoscolo's  horse  stumbled.  The  stallion  sounded  its 
scream,  and  rushed  against  the  other  mount,  throwing 
it  from  its  feet. 

The  Indian  sprang  free  from  his  falling  horse,  and, 
grasping  O'Donnell's  stirrup-strap,  vaulted  to  the  back 
of  Drumlummon.  His  face  snarled  furiously  as  he 
struck  his  knife  at  0,'Donnell.  Before  the  blow  could 
fall  a  backward  thrust  of  O'Donnell's  lance  ended  the 
outlaw's  life. 

Morando's  command  attacked  the  renegades'  front. 
The  deep-shadowed  canon  rang  with  carbine  volleys, 
the  screaming  of  horses  and  the  shouts  of  men. 

The  Indians  were  dismayed  at  the  leader's  fall,  but 
Stanislaus  took  charge,  and  urged  on  the  fight.  Night 
fall,  however,  saw  the  complete  defeat  of  the  robber 
band.  Stanislaus  was  captured. 

"I've  settled  with  Yoscolo.  Now  I'll  ride  to  Mission 
San  Jose  and  finish  my  call  on  Mendoza,"  was  O'Don 
nell's  laconic  remark. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
FARQUHARSON  MEETS  WITH  A  LOSS 


"nHHE  Cap'n  wants  me  to  give  this  'ere  paper  to 

A  the  padre  and  nobody  else.  Consequently,  no 
body  else  gets  it." 

"No  sabe,  seiior." 

Brown  was  standing  outside  the  gate  of  Mission  San 
Jose.  The  porter's  face  was  wrinkled  into  lines  of 
firmness.  The  caller  had  asked  for  Padre  Osuna  and 
had  held  up  a  sealed  envelope  on  which  was  written  the 
friar's  name.  The  man  in  the  lodge  had  asked  for  the 
communication,  first  in  Spanish,  then  in  the  world- 
known  sign  language.  Brown  understood  the  signs, 
but  was  determined  to  place  the  letter  in  the  addressee's 
hands  himself. 

"No  such  trouble  go  get  to  see  the  minister  in  my 
country,"  Brown  commented. 

"No  sabe,  sefior,"  again  from  the  porter. 

"You  don't  understand  much,  pore  critter,"  said 
Brown,  unwittingly  using  the  meaning  of  the  other's 
words.  "Well  from  them  to  whom  little  is  given  little 
is  to  be  expected;  so,  go  to  the  deuce  till  I  can  find  a 
way  to  beat  something  into  your  thick  head." 

Brown's  words  were  unintelligible,  but  his  contempt 
uous  manner  spoke  plainly  enough  to  the  Indian,  who 
broke  into  a  volley  of  indignant  Spanish. 

The  American  slipped  the  bridle  reins  over  his  horse's 


238    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

head  and  led  the  animal  across  the  street  to  the  Men- 
doza  hacienda  house. 

Senor  Mendoza  had  just  returned  from  riding.  A 
half  score  of  mounted  Indian  riflemen  were  a  short  dis 
tance  back  of  him.  The  Administrator  nimbly  sprang 
from  his  horse  and  awaited  the  newcomer.  Several  of 
the  peons  unslung  their  carbines  from  their  shoulders, 
but  replaced  them  at  a  motion  from  the  senor's  hand. 

"Can  you  talk  American?"  was  Brown's  character 
istic  question. 

Genuine  amusement  was  in  Mendoza's  laugh.  "I  am 
not  sure.  I  can  understand  you,  however.  I'm  sure 
of  that." 

Brown  looked  at  the  tall,  gray  man.  "I  reck'n  you're 
the  little  girl's  pop,"  he  observed.  "She  favors  you 
mightily  in  every  way,  'cept  in  size  and  age.  Met  her 
again  the  other  day  in  San  Jose.  We  was  tickled  to 
death  to  see  one  another." 

"So  you  are  Brown.  I  am  very  glad  to  meet  you. 
Allow  me  to  thank  you  for  your  generous  kindness  to 
my  daughter  and  the  lady  with  her  that  night  in  the 
cave." 

Mendoza  advanced,  his  hand  extended  in  hearty 
greeting.  The  American  took  the  proffered  hand  with 
a  viselike  grip. 

"You  bet  I'm  Brown — Simon  James  Brown.  Saint 
Louis,  Missouri,  is  my  post  office  address.  I'm  proud 
to  know  ye,  sir." 

The  senor  recovered  his  hand  from  Brown  after  it 
had  been  given  a  series  of  pump-handle  shakes. 

"What  me  and  the  Cap'n   did  for  your  folks   the 


FARQUHARSON  MEETS  WITH  A  LOSS  239 

night  of  the  freshet  gave  us  as  much  pleasure  as  it  did 
them,"  Brown  continued  in  a  mincing  way,  as  if  the 
occasion  demanded  some  special  effort  from  him. 

"I  regret  that  I  did  not  have  opportunity  that  night 
to  thank  you  and  your  captain." 

Brown  wagged  his  head  in  a  friendly  way.  "Curious 
feller  is  the  Cap'n.  Mind,  he's  a  decent  chap  to  work 
for  and  all  that.  I  like  him  better  all  the  time;  but 
his  ways  are  past  finding  out,  you  bet." 

Mendoza  bowed  courteously  to  the  stranger  and 
smiled  obligingly.  "What  you  see  before  you,  Seiior 
Brown,  is  yours.  Will  you  not  enter?"  He  waved  his 
hands  over  grounds  and  house. 

Brown  looked  dubiously  at  the  other.  The  sefior's 
suave  dignity  forbade  the  thought  that  he  was  joking. 

"I  declare,  I  never  had  so  much  property  before  in 
my  life.  Does  the  deed  go  with  it?" 

Mendoza  smiled  and  repeated  his  gestures. 

"I  don't  reck'n  I'll  go  in  just  now,"  he  said  dryly. 
"You  see,  I'm  workin'  and  my  time  isn't  my  own.  I'm 
lookin'  for  the  minister  of  that  there  church,"  pointing 
to  the  Mission  over  the  way.  "I  can't  make  the  feller  in 
the  box  catch  my  meanin'." 

"Ah !    You  wish  to  see  Padre  Osuna?" 

"That's  the  name  written  here,"  producing  the  en 
velope. 

"Very  well,  my  friend.  Come  with  me.  I'll  speak  to 
the  porter  for  you." 

"Senor  Brown,  shall  I  accompany  you  across  the 
way?" 

"I'll  be  much  obleeged." 


240    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Filipo!"  called  Mendoza. 

Filipo  understood.  He  came  out  the  gate,  took  the 
horse's  bridle  from  Brown,  then  clapped  his  hands  to 
gether  sharply.  A  peon  boy  came  running.  The  por 
ter  gave  quick  command  in  Spanish.  The  boy  sprang 
into  the  saddle  and  galloped  after  the  riflemen. 

"I — see  here — "  ejaculated  the  astonished  Missourian. 
"Why,  I  have  to  ride  that  nag  to  Monterey  to-night !" 
alarm  beginning  to  show  in  his  face. 

"The  horse  will  be  fed  and  cared  for,  Senor  Brown," 
assured  Mendoza. 

"I'll  see  that  you  have  a  mount  to  Monterey."  Then 
quickly:  "You  rode  through  the  lower  Santa  Clara 
from  Monterey  to-day?" 

"Sure,  I  did." 

"Saw  no  signs  of  renegades?" 

"Nary  sign.  Haven't  seen  a  renegade  since  I  swatted 
a  bunch  over  last  week." 

The  two  went  in  the  direction  of  the  Mission  lodge. 
Noting  the  erect  figure  and  decisive  step  of  the  Cali- 
fornian,  Brown  squared  his  heavy  shoulders  and  en^ 
deavored  to  walk  in  dignified  fashion. 

Mendoza  said  a  few  words  to  the  lodge  keeper.  The 
gate  opened  noiselessly. 

"Brown,  you  are  to  enter.  When  your  business  is 
over,  come  to  my  house.  Do  not  start  for  Monterey 
until  I  see  you  again.  Will  you  promise,  my  friend?" 
The  senor  held  out  his  hand. 

"All  right.  I  don't  know  where  my  horse  is  anyhow. 
Besides,  I'd  enjoy  to  come  in  and  set  a  spell."  He  ad 
ministered  several  hearty  handshakes. 


FARQUHARSON  MEETS  WITH  A  LOSS 

Mendoza  turned  and  walked  toward  his  own  gate. 

"I  declare,"  Brown  soliloquized,  "in  my  country  that 
'seenyore'  there  would  have  come  right  into  the 
preacher's  setting  room  and  stayed  around  a  while." 

The  porter,  by  crooking  his  finger,  indicated  that 
Brown  was  to  follow  him. 

"All  right,"  assented  Brown.  "I'll  follow  where  you 
can  lead  anyway." 

The  Indian  took  him  within  the  quadrangle.  The 
busy  life  he  saw  attracted  his  attention. 

"A  lot  of  you  folks  do  seem  to  be  working  at  some 
thing  or  other,"  he  remarked  to  the  porter. 

"No  sabe,  senor,"  was  the  answer. 

"Seems  to  me  I  heard  you  say  something  like  that 
before." 

They  came  to  the  friar's  apartments.  Juan  Antonio 
met  them. 

"Be  you  the  Reverend?"  asked  Brown. 

"No  sabe,  senor,"  from  the  old  major-domo. 

"That  there  'pears  to  be  a  common  remark,"  com 
mented  Brown. 

Juan  Antonio  signaled  Brown  to  come  with  him. 

"All  right,  'seenyore,'  I'm  coming.  'Pears  to  me  this 
might  be  a  likely  place  for  a  deaf-and-dumb  man." 

He  was  ushered  into  a  small  room  well  lighted  by  the 
afternoon  sun.  The  padre  arose  to  meet  him. 

"You  wish  to  see  me,  brother?"  he  asked. 

Brown  dropped  his  sombrero  on  the  floor  and  made 
the  lowest  bow  of  his  life.  "I  have  a  letter  for  you, 


" 


rend." 


chair,  my  brother.     Ah!  I  recognize  the  hand- 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

writing,"  taking  the  letter.  "Kindly  excuse  me  while 
I  read  it." 

"I  shall  return  an  oral  reply  to  Captain  Farquhar- 
son.  Say  to  him,  'Yes,  I  will  see  him.'  ' 

"I'll  do  it." 

The  friar  seated  himself.  "I  see  you  are  not  an  Eng 
lishman,  my  friend." 

"No,  indeed,  I'm  American,  lock,  stock,  and  barrel." 

"I  thought  as  much  from  your  accent." 

"My  accent !" 

"Yes.  Your  manner  of  speaking  English  is  quite 
different  from  that  to  which  I  have  been  accustomed." 

"I  speak  good  old  United  States,"  Brown  said, 
warmly. 

Padre  Osuna  laughed.  "I  have  met  occasionally  sea 
faring  men  here  and  trappers  of  your  nationality." 

"I  reckon  they  do  slop  over  into  this  country.  I 
wish  more  of  them  would  come.  But  we  are  a  long 
way  off  when  we  are  at  home." 

"Did  you  come  here  as  a  trapper  or  as  a  sailor?" 

"Nary  trapper ;  nary  sailor.  I'm  here  on  the  propo 
sition  of  big  game  huntin'." 

The  padre  made  no  reply,  but  looked  intently  at  his 
visitor. 

Brown  now  felt  that  some  remarks  on  matters  reli 
gious  were  due  from  him. 

"I  haven't  been  to  church  none  in  California  because 
I'm  entirely  ignorant  of  the  prevailin'  tongue,"  he 
started  in  abruptly.  "It's  no  use  to  set  under  preachin' 
if  you  don't  understand  the  preacher." 

The  padre  laughed.     "Certainly  both  preacher  and 


FARQUHARSON  MEETS  WITH  A  LOSS 

congregation  would  be  at  a  disadvantage  in  such 
case." 

"I've  seen  men  around  Monterey  and  elsewhere 
dressed  in  the  same  way  you  are,  but  I  haven't  spoke  to 
them,  bein'  uncertain  of  their  knowledge  of  my  talk." 

"I  fear  that  not  one  of  my  brethren  could  understand 
you." 

"So  I  reckoned.  Now,  I'm  not  a  religious  professor 
at  this  time,  though  I'd  delight  to  set  under  good 
preachin'.  I  and  all  my  folks  are  hard-shelled  Bap 
tists." 

"Indeed." 

"Yes.  But  bein'  mate  on  a  Mississippi  freight  boat 
and  handlin'  nigger  deck  hands  begets  an  unregenerate 
spirit." 

"You  found  it  so?" 

"I  did.  That  was  one  of  the  reasons  why  I  left  steam- 
boatin'.  Diversion  and  love  of  adventure  were  the 
others." 

"You  say  you  came  here  on  the  proposition  of  big 
game  hunting.  You  have,  then,  given  up  your  project 
for  the  time  being  to  take  service  with  Captain  Far- 
quharson  ?" 

"O,  no,  Reverend.  The  Cap'n  is  here  on  the  same 
proposition.  When  I  first  met  him  he  was  plum  daffy 
on  big  game.  The  big  game  he  wanted  resided  only  in 
California.  Now,  being  a  man  of  the  world,  I'd  mixed 
a  good  deal  with  the  huntln'  of  bear,  et  cetery.  I 
reckoned  I  could  do  huntin'  in  a  plain  way  on  the  Pacific 
Coast,  so  I  became  first  mate  in  the  Cap'n's  outfit,  and 
here  I  be." 


244    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  friar  looked  searchingly  at  Brown.  "Your  out 
fit  is  doubtless  richer  by  many  peltries  at  this  time." 

Brown  laughed  and  slapped  his  thigh.  At  the  same 
time  a  shrewd  twinkle  came  into  his  eyes.  "Most  curious 
thing  in  nature !  The  minute  the  Cap'n  comes  where 
big  game  abounds  he  loses  int'rest  in  said  game  com 
plete." 

"Indeed." 

"Certain  and  sure.     Never  saw  anything  like  it." 

"How  do  you  account  for  it?" 

"The  Cap'n's  got  cards  up  his  sleeve.  Maybe  I'm 
wrong,  and  maybe  I'm  right;  but,  anyway,  it's  got 
something  to  do  with  these  Injun  folks  hereabouts." 

Padre  Osuna  was  all  attention.  "Why  do  you  think 
so?" 

"Well,  Reverend,  it's  the  result  of  my  observin's." 

"Yes?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Cap'n  thinks  this  country  should  be  cul 
tivated.  Talks  free  on  this  point.  Naturally,  Injuns 
will  do  the  harvest  in'.  Naturally,  again,  the  Cap'n 
will  get  his  share  of  the  harvest." 

Father  Osuna  looked  steadily  at  Brown.  "You  think 
Captain  Farquharson  would  burden  our  Indians  still 
further?  Have  they  not  been  already  plundered  and 
cast  out?  Captain  Farquharson's — our  government 
could  not  contemplate  making  their  peonage  more 
complete.  It  is  impossible." 

.  Brown,  slowly  moving  from  side  to  side  in  his  chair, 
eyed  the  padre.  "Reckon  'twon't  hurt  'em  to  work  a 
sight  more  than  they  do.  Our  niggers  in  the  South 
hustle  and  it  does  'em  good,  besides  creatin'  wealth." 


FARQUHARSON  MEETS  WITH  A  LOSS 

The  friar  paced  nervously  up  and  down  the  little 
room..  "My  poor  children  have  been  deprived  of  their 
own;  the  labor  of  their  hands  is  being  exploited;  the 
welfare  of  their  souls  is  forgotten.  Am  I  helping  to 
forge  their  fetters  stronger?  God  forbid." 

Brown  arose  and  picked  up  his  hat  from  the  floor. 
"O,  the  Cap'n's  a  pretty  good  fellow,  but  smart,  you 
see!  He  won't  treat  these  'ere  natives  worse  than  the 
next  one." 

The  friar  did  not  heed  him.  "This  province  goes  to 
England,  doubtless.  If  my  little  ones  are  oppressed, 
I'll  appear  before  the  queen  and  demand  their  rights. 
I'll  claim  my  privilege  of  speaking  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  The  plagues  of  Egypt  will  fall  on  a  land 
which  permits  such  infamy." 

"Excuse  me,  Reverend,  I'll  be  going." 

"O,  good-day,  my  friend.  Remember,  'Yes.'  Shall 
I  write  it,  or  will  you  remember  it?" 

"I  can  recollect  it  all  right.     Good-day,  Reverend." 

Brown  made  his  way  toward  the  lodge.  "Well,  this 
'ere  does  beat  all  Harry."  He  paused  and  looked 
around  the  courtyard.  "Well,  this  'ere  does  beat  all 
Harry!  England,  hey?  Well,  by  gosh!  Not  much! 
Big  game !  Big  game !  I  attend  my  own  business  pretty 
much,  but  here  is  the  time  for  bein'  nosy." 

The  porter  opened  the  gate  for  him  to  pass  out. 

"I'm  going'  to  see  the  'seenyore'  across  the  way,  then 
I  start  for  an  interview  with  the  Cap'n,"  spoke  Brown 
to  himself. 

Filipo  admitted  him  at  the  Mendoza  gate  and  brought 
him  to  the  Administrator. 


246    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Ah!  Senor  Brown,  a  moment's  chat  with  you." 

"I'd  rather  talk  than  eat." 

"You  shall  do  both." 

A  peon  brought  in  refreshments. 

"My  good  Brown,  it  is  wiser  that  you  stay  here  to 
night." 

"Simply  can't  do  it.  One  reason  is,  the  Cap'n's 
business.  The  other  is,  my  own  business." 

"At  any  rate,  partake  of  the  food  and  wine.  You 
can  the  better  go  on  your  journey." 

Brown  did  as  invited.  After  a  moment  he  said: 
"Aren't  some  folks  doin'  more  or  less  pull-hauling  to 
ward  makin'  California  English  territory?" 

"It  is  true.    Haven't  you  known  it  for  some  time?" 

"Well,  I  should  say  not !"  contemptuously. 

"Your  preferences  are  not  English?" 

"My  family,"  emphatically,  "has  spilled  too  much 
blood  fighting  'em,  for  that.  Not,"  apologetically,  "but 
what  some  pretty  good  Britishers  exist ;  but  if  anybody 
gets  this  country,  it's  Uncle  Sam." 

"Have  you  spoken  in  this  way  to  the  Captain?" 

"Haven't  got  round  to  it  yet.  You  bet  I  do  before 
this  time  to-morrow.  Then  I  strike  the  long  trail  back 
to  old  Missouri,  either  on  ship  or  on  shank's  mare." 

"If  you  leave  your  present  employment  at  any  time, 
I  wish  you  would  apply  to  me  before  going  farther. 
Well,  here  comes  my  daughter." 

Carmelita  greeted  the  American  cordially.  "I  am 
delighted  to  see  you  in  my  father's  house." 

"I  reckon  it's  a  good  place  to  be  in.  Wish  I  could 
stay  longer,  but  I'm  anxious  to  get  to  Monterey." 


FARQUHARSON  MEETS  WITH  A  LOSS  247 

He  was  obdurate  to  Mendoza's  urging  him  to  remain 
as  his  guest  till  more  could  be  learned  as  to  the  rene 
gades. 

"I  can  travel  by  night  along  a  trail  I  know.  They 
won't  see  I'm  not  one  of  themselves.  All  men  look  alike 
in  the  dark." 

Mendoza,  greatly  reluctant,  allowed  Brown  to  be  off. 
He  sent  a  strong  guard  of  fighting  peons  with  him. 

"Reckon  it's  the  proper  caper  to  travel  in  style  now 
I'm  a  landed  proprietor.  Gosh!  Wouldn't  my  dad  be 
proud  to  see  me  now!" 

"When  you  come  to  this  house  you  come  to  your 
own,"  the  host  had  insisted  at  parting. 

"Mr.  Mendoza  is  a  tolerable  generous  old  gent," 
Brown  remarked  to  the  leader  of  peons  who  rode  by  his 
side. 

"No  sabe,  sefior." 

"Well,  your  ignorance  is  thick  enough  to  be  cut  with 
a  knife.  Hey?" 

"No  sabe,  sefior." 

"Well,"  resignedly,  "that  is  about  all  I've  been  able 
to  get  out  of  men  like  you  for  months." 

They  were  presently  in  San  Jose.  The  pueblo  was  in 
an  almost  hysterical  state.  Morando  had  drawn  with 
him  nearly  all  the  men  capable  of  bearing  arms.  Ru 
mors  were  flying  about  that  the  Spanish  force  had  been 
cut  to  pieces  and  that  Yoscolo  was  about  to  descend 
on  the  country. 

Brown  did  not  understand  a  word  of  what  was  being 
said.  He  insisted  on  starting  for  Monterey.  The 
peon  leader  ordered  his  men  to  detain  him  by  force. 


248    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Gosh  darn  yer!  Gosh  darn  yer!"  the  American 
shouted.  "Leggo  my  horse !  Leggo  my  horse,  I  say !" 

He  loosed  both  feet  from  the  stirrups  and  kicked 
lustily.  The  natives  grasped  his  legs  and  hung  on  like 
pendant  weights  despite  the  rear  of  the  mount.  He  cut 
about  him  with  his  riding-whip.  The  peons  literally 
swarmed  over  him,  pinioning  his  arms  from  front  and 
behind,  meanwhile  shouting  objections,  curses,  explana 
tions  in  mingled  Spanish  and  Indian. 

"Shut  off  your  gibberish !  Shut  off  your  gibberish, 
I  say !  I've  got  to  light  out  o'  here.  Get  off  my  back ! 
I've  got  to  get  the  Cap'n,"  Brown  yelled. 

"I'm  here,  Brown." 

Farquharson  had  ridden  up  unobserved. 

"I  heard  things  were  stirring  around  here  and  I  came 
to  find  out  about  it,"  he  continued.  "I  knew  I  should 
meet  you  on  the  way." 

The  peons  released  Brown  at  a  word  from  the  Eng 
lishman. 

"These  men  were  saying  you  must  stay  here  and  help 
defend  the  women  and  children." 

"Cap',  I'm  mighty  glad  to  see  you.  Well,  what 
about  the  women  and  children?" 

"It  will  not  be  necessary.  Yoscolo  has  been  bested. 
The  fight  is  over,  and  the  wounded  are  already  nearing 
the  outskirts  of  the  pueblo  here." 

"All  well  and  good.  Now,  Cap',  the  padre's  word 
to  you  is  'Yes,'  " 

"I  understand,  Brown." 

"Now  I  have  a  word." 

"Very  well." 


FARQUHARSON  MEETS  WITH  A  LOSS  249 

Brown  dismounted  and  came  close  to  Farquharson. 
"Are  you  aimin'  to  turn  California  over  to  the  British?" 

The  Captain  smiled  broadly.  "Now,  see  here,  Brown, 
we've  got  along  famously  for  months.  You  haven't 
asked  questions  and  haven't  suffered  any  loss  by  not 
doing  so.  Now  let  things  run  along  the  same  old  way. 
You've  been  useful  to  me.  I'll  see  you  get  a  great  deal 
more  than  the  money  I've  paid  you  month  by  month." 

"Cap',  you  can  explain  away  things  about  the  best 
of  any  man  I  ever  saw;  but  this  here  is  principle  with 
me.  There  isn't  any  explaining  it  away.  As  I  said,  I 
don't  care  a  durn  for  this  country.  It's  too  fur  out. 
But  if  I  help  anybody  get  it,  that  anybody  is  Uncle 
Sam." 

"Now,  Brown,  that's  sentiment.  Your  Uncle  Sam 
doesn't  want  the  country.  If  he  does,  why  hasn't  he 
made  it  his  own  long  ago?  The  truth  is,  the  United 
States  already  has  more  territory  than  it  knows  what 
to  do  with.  England  can  use  California  to  splendid 
advantage.  The  people  here  are  crying  for  her  to  come. 
Brown,  her  coming  is  inevitable." 

"Perhaps  so.  Just  the  same,  I  don't  put  my  shoulder 
to  her  wheel  and  push  her  in  here.  No,  sir !" 

Farquharson  placed  his  hand  on  Brown's  arm.  "See 
here,  my  friend,  I  don't  forget  you  risked  your  life 
for  me  that  afternoon  in  Monterey." 

"That's  all  right,  Cap'.  I'll  remark  here,  there's 
nothing  personal  to  you  in  my  present  position." 

"Well,  stay  with  me.  Ask  no  questions,  and  I'll  see 
you  have  a  grant  of  land  here  twenty  times  the  size  of 
your  average  Missouri  farm." 


250    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Not  if  I'm  to  help  you  or  anyone  to  make  this  place 
over  to  England.  Whatever  I've  done  in  that  way  pre 
vious  was  without  my  knowledge." 

"Brown,  we  shall  leave  our  hill-camp  immediately  and 
live  in  Monterey.  You  will  have  nothing  to  do  but 
carry  messages  for  me.  Stay  on,  now,  like  a  good 
fellow,  and  in  a  half  dozen  years  you  can  visit  your  old 
Missouri  home  as  a  rich  man." 

"No  use,  Cap'.  I've  never  been  so  sorry  to  quit  a 
man,  but  I  have  to  go." 

"Well,  Brown,  if  being  a  landed  proprietor  doesn't 
appeal  to  you,  why  not  stay  on  the  basis  of  the  friend 
ship  that  has  grown  between  us?" 

"I'm  your  friend  all  right,  Cap',  but  I  can't  do  a 
thing  that  would  make  my  old  pop  back  in  Missouri 
ashamed  of  me.  Don't  ask  that." 

O'Donnell  appeared  from  somewhere.  Powder-stains 
streaked  his  hair,  face,  and  beard.  His  clothing  was 
cut  and  torn,  but  his  step  was  steady  and  firm.  His 
eyes  looked  straight  into  Farquharson's.  The  English 
man  returned  him  look  for  look. 

"Brown,  you  know  where  to  find  me."  The  Captain 
held  out  his  hand. 

Brown  shook  it  warmly.     "Good-by,  Cap'." 

Farquharson  mounted  his  horse  and  moved  slowly 
away.  O'Donnell  and  Brown  were  left  alone. 

"You  and  your  'Cap'n'  have  been  having  words?" 
O'Donnell  asked. 

"Sounded  like  it,  did- it?" 

"I  presume  you  do  not  know  he  is  in  the  province  for 
political  reasons?" 


FARQUHARSON  MEETS  WITH  A  LOSS  251 

"If  I  was  of  an  inquiring  turn  of  mind,  I'd  ask  what 
business  it  is  of  yours  whether  I  do  or  not." 

O'Donnell  laughed.  "No  business  at  all,  friend 
Brown — no  business  at  all.  I  happen  to  be  a  lover  of  the 
Stars  and  Stripes;  consequently,  no  friend  of  Captain 
Farquharson's  political  intrigues  here.  Do  you  underr 
stand?" 

"More  or  less.  It's  the  Stars  and  Stripes  for  me  too, 
every  time !" 

"You  are  a  likely-looking  man.  Since  you  have  left 
Farquharson  I'll  offer  you  place  with  me.  You  will 
find  it  active,  full  of  excitement,  and  with  pay  not 
small." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Irishman,  but  I  don't  intend  to 
work  any  more  for  strangers.  It's  like  buying  a  pig 
in  a  sack.  'Seenyore'  Mendoza  offered  me  two  things 
this  afternoon,  one  was  his  house  and  farm,  t'other  was 
a  job.  I'll  think  I'll  take  the  job.  Otherwise,  it's  me 
for  old  Missouri." 

O'Donnell  again  laughed.  "Very  well,  then,  take 
service  with  Senor  Mendoza.  I'll  ride  to  Mission  San 
Jose  later  in  the  evening,  and  I  intend  to  call  on  Men 
doza  myself.  Would  be  glad  of  your  company,  if  you'll 
come  along  with  me." 

The  wounded  began  to  come  in  on  improvised  litters. 
O'Donnell  and  Brown  gave  their  assistance  toward 
bringing  them  into  comfortable  quarters.  Many  of  the 
men  did  not  return  from  the  field  of  La  Cuesta  de  los 
Gatos.  There  was  lamentation  in  hacienda  house  and 
in  peon  cot  that  night  in  the  valley  of  Santa  Clara. 

"There's  nothing  more  for  us  to  do  here,  Brown.   Are 


252    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

you  ready  to  start  for  Mendoza's?"  It  was  midnight 
and  the  wounded  had  been  cared  for. 

"All  right.     I'll  go  with  you." 

They  set  out,  the  fighting  peons  following,  their  ranks 
sadly  decimated  by  the  afternoon  fight. 

"Blamed  sorry  to  leave  the  Cap'n,"  Brown  volun 
teered.  "He's  a  decent  chap,  and  smart — well,  about 
the  best  educated  man  I  ever  saw — and  spunky — I'll 
never  forget  how  he  half  raised  up  from  that  stair- 
landing  in  Monterey,  like  a  shot  weasel  standing  off  a 
pack  of  dogs.  Fire  was  just  spitting  from  his  eyes — 
just  spitting!" 

"But  his  politics,"  O'Donnell  interpolated. 

"His  politics  ain't  mine,"  Brown  sighed. 

They  rode  on  in  silence. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

SENORA     VALENTINO     AND     CAPTAIN     MO- 
RANDO   CONTINUE   CONVERSATION 

AUL  has  slain  his  thousands,  but  David  his  tens 
of  thousands.  I  greet  you,  Captain  Morando." 

Morando  bowed. 

"A  chair,  Captain.  My  good  brother-in-law  the 
Colonel  Barcelo  awakes  soon,  I'm  sure." 

"If  you  do  not  mind,  Senora  Valentino,  let  us  walk 
up  and  down  this  wide  veranda.  I  think  you  were  doing 
so  a  moment  ago." 

"Quite  right,  Sefior  Captain." 

The  senora  and  the  soldier  were  on  a  long  balcony  in 
the  second  story  of  the  Barcelo  mansion.  It  ran  along 
the  street  side  of  the  house  and  across  one  end.  The 
cool  wind  from  the  Monterey  Bay  crept  along  the 
street,  mounted  to  the  porch,  and  breathed  gently  there. 
The  leaves  crinkled  under  the  chill  and  the  flower  petals 
shrank  within  themselves. 

"Benito  had  strict  orders  to  keep  awake  and  bring 
you  here  the  moment  you  arrived,  Captain." 

"The  watchful  sentinel  was  indeed  awake  and  lost  no 
time  in  showing  me  here,  senora." 

"At  midnight  I  left  the  Colonel  and  his  council.  They 
had  just  finished  reading  the  dispatches  you  sent.  They 
expected  you  and  your  prisoners  along  shortly.  They 

253 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

were  to  wait  for  you  in  these  chairs,  but  I  fancy  the  ccol 
morning  invited  them  within.  I  fancy,  again,  one  could 
easily  find  the  Colonel  and  his  council."  She  shrugged 
and  laughed.  They  paused  just  opposite  a  wide-open 
door.  Within  were  several  men,  in  easy  chairs,  fast 
asleep.  Colonel  Barcelo,  especially,  was  breathing 
stoutly.  Two  soldiers,  evidently  detailed  as  orderlies, 
were-  on  guard.  They  rose  from  their  chairs,  saluted 
the  Captain,  and  again  seated  themselves,  all  silently 
as  if  in  pantomime. 
v  The  sefiora  and  the  Captain  continued  their  walk. 

"I  expected  to  arrive  here  much  sooner,  but  had  diffi 
culty  in  getting  enough  horses.  We  were  obliged  to 
sequester  a  number  from  the  Mission  Santa  Clara. 
Many  mounts,  as  well  as  many  men,  were  killed  or 
maimed  in  the  fight,  and  we  had  nearly  two  hundred 
prisoners  to  transport  to  the  military  prison  here." 

"Ah,  Captain,  my  heart  rejoices  in  your  victory  and 
in  your  safety.  Do  you  soldiers  ever  think  that  while 
you  are  away  fighting  we  women  are  home  inactive,  save 
in  prayer,  waiting,  longing  for  word  of  you,  yet  dread 
ing  to  hear  it  when  it  comes?  In  the  rush  of  battle, 
amigo,  does  one  little  thought  ever  go  back  to  these 
waiting  ones?" 

"My  good  sefiora,  not  a  moment  since  I  left  you  two 
days  ago  has  the  thought  of  one  woman  been  absent 
from  me.  Yesterday,  in  that  desperate  hand-to-hand 
fight,  time  after  time  we  were  hard  pressed,  and  the 
memory-picture  of  her  moved  my  soul  and  placed  a 
giant's  strength  in  my  arm.  The  men  caught  my 
spirit." 


CONVERSATION  CONTINUED  255 

"The  thought  of  one  woman,  Captain?" 

"Yes,  sefiora.  It  may  be  women  little  realize  the  part 
they  have  in  bringing  to  success  many  a  perilous  enter 
prise." 

"It  is  good  to  hear  you  say  that,  my  Captain." 

"Senora,  often  when  we  are  most  occupied  there  runs 
in  us  an  undercurrent  of  thought  which  reaches  a  surer 
conclusion,  perhaps,  than  could  our  conscious  reason. 
In  these  past  busy  hours  my  deeper  self  has  lived  again 
and  again  in  the  words  you  and  I  spoke  that  morning 
in  the  reception  room  below.  When  opportunity  comes 
I  shall  give  you  further  confidences  of  my  heart." 

"I  am  greatly  complimented  by  what  you  tell  me." 

"Had  I  but  time  that  morning  I  should  have  gone  to 
greater  length.  My  dear  senora,  a  common  bond  unites 
you  and  me.  Providence,  I  doubt  not,  has  brought  us 
together  in  understanding,  after  all  these  years,  that 
we  may  help  each  other." 

"Captain,  I — I  feel — I  need  help.  And  you — 
you " 

"My  good  senora,  I  shall  give  help  as  I  can.  From 
you  I  ask  the  same  consideration.  That  morning  I  was 
about  to  say  to  you " 

The  church  bell  rang.  The  hour  was  six,  the  time  for 
the  morning  Angelus. 

"The  angel  of  the  Lord  declared  unto  Mary,"  Col 
onel  Barcelo's  voice  repeated  half  sleepily.  The  sol 
diers  and  the  council  all  joined  in  the  morning  prayer. 

"I  must  have  nodded,"  the  Colonel  added.  "A  moment 
ago  I  was  the  only  one  awake  around  here,  but  I  didn't 
care  to  disturb  these  civilians  who  aren't  accustomed 


256    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

to  night  duty,"  looking  indulgently  at  his  council. 
"But  as  for  the  soldiers,"  glaring  at  the  orderlies,  "why, 
they  simply  are  no  soldiers  at  all.  Many's  the  time 
I've  gone  eighty  hours  without  sleep,  eighty  hours, 
senors  !  and  never  closing  an  eye.  Why,  bless  my  soul ! 
here  is  Morando,  a  trifle  dusty  and  smoke-stained,  but 
still  fresh  as  a  rose.  Congratulation,  good  Captain ! 
I'm  glad  you  rubbed  out  that  rascally  Indian.  Why, 
here's  Senora  Valentino  also !  I  suppose  the  Angelus 
bell  aroused  you.  Well,  I  was  awake.  Sit  down,  Mo 
rando.  Take  this  easjr  chair." 

The  Colonel  arose  and  walked  about  the  room. 
"Well,  tell  us  about  the  fight — I'm  beginning  to  get 
hungry." 

"Lieutenant  Mesa,  who  came  to  you  last  night,  told 
you,  I'm  sure,  all  there  is  to  tell.  One  of  the  prisoners, 
however,  told  me  something  interesting  about  the 
Americano  O'Donnell  and  Yoscolo." 

"Ah!  O'Donnell,"  from  Senora  Valentino.  "Let  us 
hear  about  it." 

"I  wondered  why  Yoscolo  deserted  the  coast  range 
whence  he  could  have  easily  reached  the  high  Sierras 
and  safety,"  began  Morando.  "This  Indian  prisoner 
told  me  that  Yoscolo  abandoned  the  Sierras  for  fear  of 
O'Bonncll  himself." 

"For  fear  of  O'Donnell!"  Barcelo  ejaculated  in  con 
tempt.  "That  Indian  was  simply  talking  nonsense. 
I've  seen  this  O'Donnell  around  here — some  nondescript 
fellow.  Besides,  O'Donnell  wasn't  in  the  Sierras  at  all, 
but  right  along  with  you.  Well,  we'll  all  feel  better 
when  we've  had  some  breakfast." 


CONVERSATION  CONTINUED  257 

"What  further  did  your  informant  say,  Captain 
Morando?"  Senora  Valentino  persisted. 

"Yoscolo  thought  O'Donnell  had  gone  to  the  far- 
western  plains.  The  Americano  is  most  influential  there 
with  high  chiefs.  So,  our  Yoscolo  intended  to  raid  the 
missions  and  haciendas,  hold  Spanish  men  and  women 
for  ransom  and  make  his  way  with  the  proceeds  to 
Northern  Mexico,  all  before  O'Donnell  should  return. 
He  knew  the  Americano  could  overwhelm  him  with  those 
plains  natives,  if  he  wished.  But  O'Donnell  had  not  yet 
gone  to  the  plains.  Yoscolo  only  became  aware  of  this 
after  he  began  raiding.  Accordingly,  he  left  the  neigh 
borhood  of  danger,  and  was  on  his  way  along  the  coast 
to  Mexico,  for  safety,  when  we  overtook  him  at  Los 
Gatos." 

"Simply  preposterous !  Simply  preposterous  !  what 
the  Indian  told  you,"  puffed  Barcelo.  "Well,  it  was 
as  good  a  way  as  any  to  pass  a  weary  journey.  But 
let's  go  to  breakfast." 

"Whither  went  O'Donnell  after  the  action  at  Los 
Gatos?"  still  persisted  Seriora  Valentino. 

"After  giving  aid  to  the  wounded  in  San  Jose  he  rode 
to  the  house  of  Senor  Mendoza." 

Senor  Barcelo  appeared  on  the  veranda. 

"Crisostimo,  will  you  kindly  tell  our  amigos  that 
breakfast  will  be  ready  in  fifteen  minutes?  Silvia  and 
you,  Crisostimo,  help  me  show  them  rooms  where  they 
may  prepare.  Sister,  love,  have  a  care  for  your  arm. 
Come,  amigos  come." 

The  guests  were  soon  disposed  to  their  rooms. 

As  they  left  the  breakfast  table,  Seriora  Valentino 


258    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

said  to  Morando :  "Captain,  shall  we  not  continue  the 
conversation  interrupted  by  the  ringing  of  the  An- 
gelus?" 

"With  great  pleasure,  my  senora." 

"Let  us  go  into  the  courtyard  garden." 

Colonel  Barcelo  and  his  councilors  returned  to  the 
upper  veranda. 

"I'll  have  to  be  at  the  castle  when  Morando  turns 
these  prisoners  over  to  me  formally,  and  withdraws  his 
own  men.  I'll  see  to  it  that  horses  will  be  there  for  us, 
and  we'll  go  out  on  a  tour  of  inspection,"  Barcelo  said. 

"How  softly  the  morning  light  comes  into  the  patio, 
Captain !"  as  they  were  sitting  together  under  a  locust 
tree. 

"I  can  scarcely  realize  that  the  same  sun  shines  here 
and  on  that  scene  of  death  of  few  hours'  ride  away.  As 
I  sit  here  with  you  in  this  quiet  and  peace  the  other 
seems  a  dream,  an  awful  dream,  senora." 

"But  you  are  with  me,  and  yesterday  has  gone  the 
way  of  all  other  days  that  are  past.  The  future,  if  we 
are  willing,  may  hold  many  happy  years  for  us." 

"I  pray  so,  my  good  senora." 

The  senora  lowered  her  eyes,  and  bowed  gently. 

"Our  lives  are  empty;  yours,  because  it  has  never 
been  filled.  Hence  there  is  greater  hope  for  you  than 
for  me." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Captain?" 

"You  have  been  frank  with  me.  I  will  be  the  same 
with  you.  Fate  brought  me  to  far-away  California.  I 
chanced  to  meet  the  one  who  from  the  first  filled  my 
heart,  my  soul.  I  sang  beneath  her  window.  She 


CONVERSATION  CONTINUED  259 

laughed.  Sometimes  I  thought  she  encouraged  me. 
Sometimes,  again,  she  flouted  me.  Nevertheless,  I 
dared  hope  she  cared  for  me.  Now  I  know  she  did  not." 

The  Captain  paused  in  thought. 

The  senora  did  not  speak. 

Finally  Morando  continued :  "More  than  once  I  tried 
to  tell  her  I  loved  her,  but  she  held  me  at  arm's  length. 
The  night  of  the  baile,  at  Mission  San  Jose,  I  believed 
my  opportunity  had  come.  She  listened  to  me,  favor 
ably  I  was  sure ;  but  there  was  an  interruption  from  her 
partner  for  the  next  dance.  When  again  she  was  alone 
I  pressed  my  suit.  It  was  in  vain.  She  seemed  changed 
— offended.  Yesterday  I  was  at  her  father's  house.  I 
talked  with  her.  At  first  she  listened  most  graciously ; 
then,  in  some  way,  I  offended  her  still  more.  I  am 
speaking  of  the  Sefiorita  Carmelita  Mendoza,  senora." 

"Captain,"  came  slowly  from  the  senora,  "we  were 
speaking  the  other  day  of  the  face  of  the  window  pane 
in  old  Pilar  Convent." 

"I  shall  never  forget,  my  dear  senora." 

"That  face  called  in  you  to  the  primeval  love  every 
man  has  for  an  ideal  woman.  For  her  your  heart  had 
been  unconsciously  searching.  The  Senorita  Mendoza 
seemed  to  you  to  fulfill  that  ideal.  You  went  to  her 
with  words  of  love.  She  could  not  reciprocate.  Does 
it  not  mean  that  you  must  look  beyond  the  beautiful 
child  of  Senor  Mendoza  for  the  realization  of  your 
heart's  desires?" 

Morando  looked  straight  at  the  senora.  "Senora 
Valentino,  I  love  the  Senorita  Mendoza  with  every  fiber 
of  my  being.  I  shall  never  cease  to  love  her.  I  could 


260    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

not  bear  to  stay  here  and  see  her  the  wife  of  another 
man.  Therefore  I  have  resolved  to  go  away. 

"But,  my  dear  Captain,  time  has  worked  wonders. 
It  may  do  so  for  you." 

Morando  shook  his  head.  "Nothing  can  alter  my 
love  for  the  senorita  dona." 

"Ah,  Captain !  You  believe  that  the  senorita  dona 
fulfills  your  ideal ;  yet  you  cannot  wed  her.  There  may 
be  another  destined  to  fit  into  the  high  place  to  which 
you,  not  knowing,  have  called  this  child.  Think,  my 
friend,  may  it  not  be  so?" 

"It  cannot  be.  Senora  Valentino,  now  that  I  have 
lost  Senorita  Mendoza,  the  memory-pictures  of  her  come 
to  me  with  tenfold  intensity.  I  saw  her,  as  if  near  me, 
on  the  battlefield.  I  dreamed  of  her  in  the  short  hours 
of  sleep  that  have  been  mine  since  I  last  saw  her.  Yes, 
dear  friend,  even  now,  as  you  sit  by,  with  words  of 
comfort  for  me,  I  see  plainly  the  face  and  form  of 
Carmelita  Mendoza.  She  seems  even  more  present  to 
me  than  are  you." 

The  senora  arose. 

He  stood  beside  her.  "I  thank  you  for  listening  to 
me.  Wheresoever  I  may  be  I  shall  never  forget  you." 

"Let  us  again  be  seated." 

"Thank  you,  senora." 

"I  soon  return  to  Europe,"  the  senora  said.  "My 
work  here  is  really  done.  Great  Britain  gains  another 
province,  and  will  be  correspondingly  thankful  to  her 
who  was  useful  in  bringing  about  the  transfer.  Good 
Captain,  I  have  other  claims  on  Great  Britain's  good 
will.  Should  you  desire  some  important  post  on  the 


CONVERSATION  CONTINUED  261 

continent,  or  elsewhere,  I  can  see  to  it  that  the  diplo 
matic  interest  of  England  is  used  to  secure  it  for  you. 
Since  you  feel  you  must  leave  here,  my  Captain,  return 
to  Europe,  take  what  good  fortune  sends  you,  and  again 
you  will  be  the  knight  of  the  Lady  of  the  Window  Pane, 
and  she  will  rejoice  in  the  victories  you  win  for  her." 

Morando  lifted  the  seiiora's  hand  to  his  lips.  "Do 
not  think  I  am  unmindful,  kind  friend,  of  your  goodness 
to  me.  I  appreciate  it  most  sincerely.  But,  senora,  I 
could  not  accept  your  generous  offices." 

"But,  Captain,  there  are  many  aspirants  for  the 
high  places.  Worth  is  but  one  of  the  requirements. 
Another  is  to  have  a  friend  at  court.  I  can  point  out  to 
you  the  short  paths  to  preferment,  and  can  assist  you. 
I  soon  return  to  Europe.  Why  not  you  do  the  same?" 

"Again  I  thank  you,  senora.  Europe  is  too  crowded ; 
therefore  I  left  it.  I  could  not  accept  preferment  there, 
or  here,  unless  I  had  earned  it.  South  America  offers 
to  me  the  most  inviting  field  at  this  time.  Before  long 
I  shall  turn  my  steps  in  that  direction." 

"You  are  diffident,  Captain,  and  overscrupulous. 
Europe  is  the  world.  Go  there.  Accept  what  offers 
itself,  and  you  will  find  your  capabilities  are  equal  to 
the  task." 

Again  Morando  shook  his  head.  "Senora  Valentino, 
there  is  one  thing  that  I  would  like  to  ask  you  to  do  for 
me." 

"Yes,  Captain." 

"I  seem  to  make  matters  worse  by  speaking  to  Seno- 
rita  Mendoza  myself.  Would  you  go  to  her  and  tell  her 
for  me  that — O,  that — that  I  didn't  know  of  her  en- 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

gagement  to  Peralta,  and  that  I  had  no  wish  to  annoy 
her,  and  all  that?  Explain  it  all  to  her.  You  will  know 
better  what  to  say  than  I  can  tell  you — only  tell  her 
that,  no  matter  what,  I  shall  always  love  her  truly,  and 
that  I  shall  never  love  anyone  else."  He  bowed  his  head 
in  his  hands,  overcome  by  his  own  thoughts. 

She  arose  quickly,  her  eyes  striking  fire.  He  was  too 
preoccupied  to  notice.  Her  hands  clenched  and  then 
relaxed,  in  excess  of  nervous  tension. 

"You  wish  me  to  tell  the  senorita  that  you  love  her, 
that  you  meant  no  offense  in  so  telling  her " 

Colonel  Barcelo's  loud  voice  called,  "Morando !  Mo- 
rando  !  I  say,  Morando !" 

The  Captain  aroused  himself.  "Here,  Colonel.  Here 
in  the  garden." 

The  Colonel  rushed  into  the  patio,  mopping  his  face 
with  his  handkerchief. 

"What  do  you  suppose  that  Stanislaus  of  yours  has 
done  now,  Captain?  What  do  you  suppose  he  has  done, 
I  say?" 

"What  has  he  done,  Colonel?" 

"Done !  Why,  my  council  and  I  were  to  inspect  some 
irrigating  ditches  in  the  hills,  to  see  the  dams  were  well 
built  and  all  that,  so  the  town  would  be  in  no  danger  of 
inundation.  Do  you  understand?"  The  Colonel  glared 
around.  "Well,  the  horses  were  tied  outside  the  castle 
for  the  use  of  myself  and  my  council  in  this  work  of 
inspection — in  this  work  of  inspection,  do  you  under 
stand?  Well,  your  men  looked  bedraggled  and  tired, 
Morando.  I  didn't  wait  for  you  to  come,  but  relieved 
them  and  put  my  own  soldiers  on  guard." 


CONVERSATION  CONTINUED  263 

"But  the  prisoners "  Morando  began. 

"That's  just  what  I'm  coming  to.  Do  be  patient! 
In  the  exchange  of  guards  some  of  the  prisoners  walked 
out — coolest  thing  I  ever  heard  of — took  rifles  from  the 
racks,  and  actually  mounted  the  horses  in  front  of  the 
castle,  and  rode  away !  I  tell  you,  rode  away!" 

Barcelo  paused  for  breath.  "I  saw  them  going  and 
gave  the  alarm,"  he  went  on,  after  a  moment.  "Yes,  I 
saw  that  rascal  Stanislaus  riding — riding  away  to 
safety.  I  saw  it  myself — I  saw " 

Further  words  failed  the  Colonel. 

The  sound  of  cavalry  was  heard  in  the  street. 

"The  pursuit!"  cried  Morando  and  started  for  the 
patio  gate. 

"Yes,  yes,  the  pursuit !"  panted  Barcelo  and  rolled 
after  him. 

Sefiora  Valentino  listened  while  Morando's  clarion 
voice  ordered  the  movements  of  the  cavalry,  and  heard 
the  noise  of  the  horses'  hoofs  die  out  in  a  distant  rumble. 

"Our  Colonel  was  out  of  breath  and  could  not  order 
the  march  of  his  men,  therefore  our  valiant  Captain  does 
it  for  him !"  she  thought.  Then  she  smiled  bitterly. 
"I  have  laid  bare  my  very  soul  before  that  man,  and 
he  could  see  nothing.  He  saw  only  that  child,  Car- 
melita  Mendoza.  What  fatality  is  it  that  closes  the 
eyes  of  the  one  man  to  me  and  makes  him  see  only  this 
miss  of  the  province?" 

Again,  after  a  little:  "Yes,  I'll  see  his  senorita  for 
him,  tell  her  he  loves  her,  and  doesn't  mean  his  blunder- 
ings.  Yes,  I'll  tell  her.  The  fool !  Yes,  I'll " 

The  senora  walked  away,  her  eyes  glittering. 


CHAPTER  XX 
BITTER  SWEET 

"/^ARMELITA,  little  heart,  how  is  it  with  thee?" 
V-/      "Well,  sefiora  dona;  many  thanks.   And  thou?" 

"As  you  see."  Sefiora  Valentino  held  up  her  injured 
wrist  neatly  bandaged. 

"I  could  not  allow  many  days  to  go  by  without  rid 
ing  over  to  thank  you  and  your  father,  the  noble 
Sefior  Administrator,  for  the  wonderful  night  of  en 
joyment  you  gave  us  in  that  grand  baile.  The  thought 
of  it  fairly  possesses  me  now,  as  it  was  some  beauti 
ful  dream  and  I  was  scarce  awake  from  sleep.  A 
thousand  thanks,  senorita  doila,  to  you  and  to  Senor 
Mendoza.  I  hope  the  senor  is  well." 

Sefiora  Valentino  and  Carmelita  were  standing  within 
the  reception  room,  near  the  open  doorway,  of  the 
Mendoza  hacienda  house.  The  grateful  coolness  of 
the  hall  was  in  strong  contrast  to  the  heat  of  the  sum 
mer  sun  which  lay  over  grounds  and  house. 

"You  are  good,  sefiora.  My  father  has  been  away 
since  yesterday.  I  shall  make  your  words  known  to 
him  on  his  return.  On  my  own  part  I  thank  you  for 
them." 

Senora  Valentino  placed  her  well  arm  around  the 
girl.  "The  beautiful  hostess  of  a  beautiful  home  is  the 
Senorita  Mendoza." 

264 


BITTER   SWEET  265 

"Will  you  not  step  within,  senora?  All  that  you  see 
is  yours." 

Carmelita  moved  toward  the  inner  room,  thus  dis 
engaging  the  senora's  arm. 

"With  much  pleasure,  senorita." 

Shortly  the  two  were  seated. 

"How  refreshing  is  this  inner  air,"  remarked  the 
senora.  "The  afternoon  brings  warmth  and  drowsi 
ness,  but  this  is  delightful." 

"Modesta,"  from  Carmelita  to  her  maid  who  ap 
peared  in  response  to  the  tinkle  of  a  bell,  "some  tea 
and  dulces  at  once." 

Without  delay  the  refreshments  appeared. 

"Sugar,  senora  mia?"  the  young  hostess  holding 
up  a  delicate  gold  spoon.  "Yes.  And  dulces?  Modesta, 
take  this  to  Senora  Valentino.  Have  a  care  for  her 
bandaged  wrist." 

"Mille  gracias,  little  hostess  mine."  Then,  sipping 
the  tea  and  nibbling  the  cakes,  "These  are  delicious 
after  the  ride,  senorita  dona." 

"Have  you  come  far,  senora?" 

"From  the  hacienda  house  of  Senor  Calderon,  near 
San  Jose  pueblo.  Merely  a  matter  of  two  hours  or 
so,  but  I  seem  to  tire  easily  since  my  arm  was  injured. 
Still,  what  of  it?  Soon  it  is  well  and  then  forgotten. 
It  is  the  way  of  unpleasant  things,  senorita.  They 
slip  away  and  we  know  them  no  more.  Well,  if  it  were 
otherwise,  perhaps  half  of  the  world  would  be  enemy 
to  the  other  half." 

She  laughed  merrily  and  the  hostess  politely  joined. 

"Yet,  in  forgetting  the  unfortunate  incident  I  would 


266    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

not,  if  I  could,  forget  the  kindly  ministrations  of  our 
dear  friend  Captain  Morando.  We  were  riding  along 
in  the  romantic  coolness  of  early  dawn — absorbed  in 
other  things,  you  know — not  noting  or  caring" — 
smiling  knowingly  into  the  other's  face — "when  that 
dreadful  creature  assailed  me  with  its  beak  and  claws." 
The  senora  turned  away  with  a  little  shudder.  Then, 
as  if  half  absently:  "But  our  soldier  lad — how  gently 
he  cared  for  me.  When  I  awakened — my  head  pillowed 
against  his  breast  as  a  child  lying  close  to  its  mother's 
heart."  Starting  up,  "But,  Carmelita  mia,  I  must  not 
distress  you.  I  am  an  unworthy  disciple  of  my  own 
creed,  for  one  minute  I  advocate  forgetting  troubles, 
then  I  straightway  recount  them;  but  then,  you  see," 
looking  down,  "my  troubles  in  this  particular  were 
most  sweetly  intermingled."  She  laughed  and  immedi 
ately  changed  the  subject.  "When  do  you  expect  the 
seiior  your  noble  father  to  return?" 

"I  do  not  know  the  time  of  his  return,  senora." 

"Has  he  gone  far?" 

"When  he  left  he  did  not  tell  me  his  destination,  so  I 
fancy  he  has  not  gone  to  any  great  distance." 

"Ah,  well!  We  women  wait  while  the  men  travel 
forth  to  dare  and  do.  It's  the  way  of  the  world." 

The  woman  and  the  girl  sat  facing  each  other.  The 
closed  shutters  excluded  the  sun,  but  the  warm  light 
of  a  California  summer  day  glowed  in  the  room.  Less 
than  five  years  divided  the  ages  of  the  matron  and  the 
maid.  At  first  sight  it  might  seem  that  the  difference 
was  greater.  The  tightly  fitting  riding-habit  of  the 
senora  added  a  maturity  to  her  look  which  was  not 


BITTER   SWEET  267 

usual,  while  the  looser  afternoon  gown  of  the  girl  gave 
her  an  uncommonly  youthful  appearance.  Carmelita 
was  somewhat  taller  than  the  senora  and  more  slender. 

"I  hope  your  arm  has  not  greatly  inconvenienced 
you,"  from  Carmelita,  by  a  strange  perversity  revert 
ing  to  the  matter  so  lightly  dismissed  by  the  senora  a 
moment  ago. 

"Yes,  and  no,  senorita.  The  wound  is  sometimes 
painful,  but  the  solicitude  of  those  about  me  shows  me 
I  have  a  place  in  their  hearts — a  pleasant  knowledge — 
an  anodyne,  so  to  speak."  She  put  her  hand  up  to  her 
head  in  a  childish  way  which  was  very  becoming.  Her 
oval  face  beamed  with  friendliness,  while  her  brown 
eyes  smiled  sweetly.  She  was  a  very  handsome  young 
woman,  apparently  very  friendly  and  very  genuinely 
interested  in  the  girl  before  her.  Carmelita  was  not 
insensible  to  her  charm. 

"You  have  a  place  in  the  hearts  of  many,  senora. 
Surely  you  could  never  doubt  it." 

"Well,  perhaps  not.  Still,  one  wishes  outward  ex 
pression  of  inward  regard.  Otherwise,  how  can  one 
be  sure  it  exists?" 

Senorita  Mendoza  said  nothing. 

"Then,  too,  we  wish,  naturally,  to  know  just  how 
a  certain  very  few  stand  toward  us — sometimes  just 
how  a  certain  one  person  feels  toward  us.  Now,  there 
are  some  who  are  very  good  to  all.  Their  hearts  are 
kind  naturally,  and  they  give  generous  words  and  deeds 
to  anyone  who  needs  them.  Is  it  not  so,  senorita?" 

"I  believe  you  speak  truly,  senora  dona." 

The  senora's  laugh  was  merry  as  she  said:  "A  wise 


268    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

puss  you  are.  Well,  this  generous,  free-for-all  kind 
ness  is  good,  but  not  entirely  satisfactory.  Each  per 
son  has  an  ideal,  and  when  we  see  that  ideal  realized 
in  some  concrete  person  we  want  that  person  to  be 
good  to  us  alone.  Do  you  not  agree,  senorita?" 

"It  would  be  presuming  in  me  to  contradict  the 
senora." 

"Ah!  I  said  you  are  a  wise  puss,  my  senorita;  and 
so  you  are,  very  wise.  Well,  wisdom  is  the  heritage 
of  our  old  Castilian  families.  Truly,  our  fathers  have 
thought  of  m'uch  and  have  done  much  in  the  genera 
tions  that  have  been  lived.  What  wonder  if  the  rich, 
pure  gold  of  experience  falls  to  us,  the  heirs  of  the 
past,  from  the  melting-furnace  of  departed  years. 
What  think  you,  little  lady?" 

"Your  thoughts  rise  above  me,  Senora  Valentino." 

The  senora  laughed  and  bowed,  as  if  in  acceptance 
of  some  compliment. 

The  peona  Modesta  appeared  in  the  doorway,  curt 
seying  several  times.  "May  I  speak,  senorita  dona?" 

"Speak,  Modesta." 

"The  post  surgeon  from  San  Jose  is  here  to  see  the 
wounded  soldiers  in  our  infirmary.  He  wishes  to  leave 
some  directions  with  you." 

"What  soldiers  does  the  peona  mean,  seiiorita?" 

"Some  disabled  men  Captain  Morando  left  with  us 
the  other  day." 

"0,  indeed!  My  husband  was  an  officer,  and  I  am 
always  much  interested  in  soldiers,  especially  those 
injured  on  the  field  of  battle.  In  San  Jose  yesterday 
I  visited  the  improvised  hospitals.  I  should  like  greatly 


BITTER   SWEET  269 

to  see  the  men  you  have  here  and  express  my  apprecia 
tion  of  their  good  work." 

"Why,  certainly,  senora.  Will  you  excuse  me  for 
a  few  minutes  now  while  I  speak  to  the  doctor?" 

The  senora  listened  to  the  sound  of  voices  in  the 
corridor.  A  demure  look  stole  over  her  face.  She 
arched  her  shoulders  coquettishly. 

"Yes,  I'll  tell  the  Senorita  Mendoza  that  Captain 
Morando  loves  her  deeply  and  meant  no  harm  when 
he  proposed  to  her.  I'll  do  just  as  the  gallant  Captain 
asked  me  to  do.  The  fool!" 

A  look  of  weariness  possessed  her  almost  immedi 
ately.  "O,  this  life!  this  life!  Political  intrigue!  and 
counter  intrigue!  all  heartless  and  unfeeling  as  a 
surgeon's  knife.  God  of  my  heart!  why  has  destiny 
discovered  such  a  groove  for  me?  And  yet — and  yet — 
what  would  life  be  without  it — without  ambition?  A 
body  without  a  soul." 

After  a  moment  she  arose,  her  hands  clinching. 

"The  gallant  Captain  shall  come  to  me  and  sue  for 
my  love,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  because  I  have 
humbled  myself  before  him.  I  will  it!  I  will  it!  As 
for  this  puss — this  wise  puss — " 

The  senorita's  steps  came  quickly  along  the  corri 
dor.  She  found  the  senora  sitting  in  the  chair,  as  she 
had  left  her,  to  all  intents  musing  the  time  away. 

"The  Captain  Morando  still  pursues  Stanislaus,  the 
elusive — so  I  heard  this  morning  in  San  Jose.  My 
brother-in-law,  the  Colonel  Barcelo,  has  returned  to 
Monterey  in  disgust,  having  given  up  the  chase.  You 
know  the  old  saying,  senorita,  'The  braver  in  war,  the 


270    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

keener  in  love.'  The  Captain  is  both  a  brave  soldier 
and  a  keen  lover."  The  senora's  full-throated,  musical 
laugh  seemed  out  of  place. 

Carmelita  was  very  quiet  as  she  asked:  "What  do 
you  mean,  senora  dona?" 

"Why,  dear  child,  I  mean  that  a  braver  man  has 
never  drawn  sword  in  the  Californias,  and  surely 
no  one  doubts  his  earnestness  in  making  love." 

The  girl's  face  flushed. 

"Did  you  know  that  the  Captain  and  I  first  knew 
each  other  about  ten  years  ago?  No?  The  inception 
of  our  acquaintance  was  quite  interesting.  Would  you 
like  to  hear  about  it?" 

"If  the  senora  wishes  to  tell  of  it." 

"Well,  after  all,  not  so  much  to  tell — a  schoolgirl 
and  schoolboy  flirtation."  She  sighed  very  prettily  as 
she  spoke.  "I  was  fourteen,  he  eighteen." 

"I  knew  that  you  and  Captain  Morando  had  met 
in  Spain,  but  I  did  not  think  it  so  long  ago  as  that." 

"Yes,  ten  years,  ten  long  years,"  opening  her  eyes 
in  mock  seriousness.  "For  three  years  this  went  on — 
three  whole  years,  then — " 

"Excuse  me,  please,  but  some  of  the  physician's 
orders  are  to  be  carried  out  at  once.  I  must  send  a 
peona  to  see  about  it.  May  I  leave  you  alone  again 
for  a  few  moments  ?" 

"Certainly,  querida,  certainly.  The  story  will  keep. 
I  also  have  another  story  of  love  to  tell  you.  We  shall 
be  quite  sentimental." 

The  girl  stepped  into  the  corridor  and  gave  some 
orders  to  a  servant.  The  young  peona  wondered 


BITTER   SWEET  271 

that  her  mistress's  face  was  stern  and  her  tone 
sharp. 

"Now,  senorita  mia,  time  is  going,  and  we  will  pass 
over  my  own  little  romance,  and  I  will  begin  with  the 
other  tale  of  love."  This  from  the  sefiora  when  Car- 
melita  had  returned.  "Are  you  ready  to  listen?" 

The  girl  so  signified. 

"From  speaking  of  our — our  youthful  flirtation — 
the  good  Captain  came  to  tell  me  of  the  grand  passion 
of  his  heart." 

"Senora  Valentino,  I  mean  no  discourtesy  to  a  guest, 
but  why  do  you  tell  me  this?" 

"Because,  my  dear,  it  concerns  you  most  especially. 
The  other  day,  in  Monterey,  Captain  Morando  and 
I  were  speaking  most  intimately,  as  becomes  old  friends. 
What  harm?  The  Captain  confided  in  me;  nay  more. 
He  gave  me  a  message  to  bring  to  you.  'I  now  love 
the  Senorita  Carmelita  Mendoza,'  he  said.  'I  pressed 
my  suit  the  night  of  the  baile.  At  first  she  listened  to 
me.  I  had  heart.  I  had  courage.  Then  she  changed. 
She  flouted  me.  Something  had  offended  her,  I  know- 
not  what.  Will  you  not  see  her,  the  beautiful  Carmelita, 
and  explain  to  her  I  meant  no  harm.  I — " 

The  senorita  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  breast  heaving. 

"Senora  Valentino,  I  cannot  listen  to  you.  Even 
though  you  are  a  guest  of  this  house,  I  cannot — " 

"Nay,  nay,  little  child.  Don't  be  so  hasty.  I  am 
commissioned  to  set  matters  right  between  you  two. 
Be  seated  now,  my  senorita,  and  hear  me  to  the  end. 
Please  be  seated.  I  am  bungling  in  my  mode  of  ex 
pression,  I  know.  Pray  be  seated." 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Carmelita  took  her  chair  once  more. 

The  senora  leaned  toward  her  confidingly,  her  brown 
eyes  looking  straight  at  the  girl,  and  her  voice  low 
and  sweet. 

"Now,  I'll  try  again,  little  one.  The  Captain  said 
to  me,  in  effect,  that  at  first  the  senorita  listened  to 
him  the  night  of  the  baile;  she  allowed  him  to  hold 
her  hand ;  her  eyes  dropped.  She — " 

"Senora  Valentino,  I  request  that  this  conversa 
tion  cease,  and  that  you  do  not  again  mention  to  me 
the  name  of  Captain  Morando." 

"But,  my  dear  senorita — " 

"I  request  that  you  do  as  I  ask,  senora." 

"I  can,  of  course,  but  do  as  you  wish.  I  assure  you, 
it  is  not  a  pleasant  task  for  me  to  speak  of  these  mat 
ters.  It  is  only  from  an  urgent  desire  to  serve  my 
friend  who  asked  this  of  me.  The  other  day  some  one, 
in  speaking  of  Captain  Morando,  said  that  it  is  easy 
for  young  men  to  fall  in  love ;  and,  indeed,  to  fall  out 
of  it — but,  away!  those  threadbare  sayings!  The 
heart  of  Don  Alfredo  is  loving  and  warm.  Do  I  not 
know  it?  Had  it  not  been  for  the  dashing  Colonel 
Valentino — "  Then  suddenly,  "O,  senorita,  a  man 
cannot  forgive  everything  even  in  a  woman  he  loves. 
If  you  do  not  listen  to  his  suit  it  may  be  too  late,  and 
you  will  live  to  regret,  even  as  I — "  She  stopped,  ap 
parently  absorbed  in  thought  of  the  past. 

The  girl  arose.    "Senora  Valentino — "  she  began. 

The  senora  extended  her  unbandaged  hand.  "I  have 
tried  to  perform  a  difficult  and  a  distasteful  task.  I 
trust  some  good  will  come  of  it.  I  will  say  but  one 


BITTER   SWEET  273 

thing  more:  Do  not  trifle  too  far  with  Captain  Mo- 
rando." 

"Captain  Morando  is  nothing  to  me;  nor  can  he 
ever  be.  I  would  not  wish  it  otherwise." 

"Well,  seiiorita,  I  have  fulfilled  my  promise.  I  have 
done  my  duty.  Shall  we  now  visit  the  wounded 
soldiers?" 

"If  you  so  desire,  Seiiora  Valentino." 

The  two  passed  out  of  the  house,  and  across  the 
courtyard  to  the  hospital  department  of  the  Mendoza 
hacienda. 

Five  of  Captain  Morando's  men  lay  on  cots  in  a 
large,  well-lighted  ward.  Seiiora  Valentino  went  from 
one  to  another  making  inquiries  and  speaking  words 
of  encouragement.  One  of  the  men  had  been  in  Mo 
rando's  company  in  the  North  Africa  campaigns,  and 
had  taken  service  again  under  him  in  California. 

"I  regret,  senora  and  senorita,  that  I  am  disabled, 
and  cannot  be  with  my  Captain  in  this  present  fight 
ing,"  he  said. 

"No  doubt,  good  man,"  replied  Senora  Valentino. 

"My  Captain  was  the  handsomest  and  the  best  man 
in  General  Guerrero's  division,"  the  soldier  went  on. 

"You  are  loyal,"  commented  the  senora. 

"With  good  reason.  I  have  followed  him  into  the 
thick  of  battle.  I  have  followed  him  through  the 
enemy's  camp;  and,"  laughing,  "I  have  followed  him 
when  he  galloped  across  country  to  tinkle  his  guitar 
beneath  the  window  of  the  beautiful  one — " 

"In  Spain,  or  North  Africa?"  interrupted  the 
senora  jokingly. 


274    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  tell  no  tales  out  of  school,"  rejoined  the  man, 
continuing  the  banter. 

"You  interest  me,  as  all  soldiers  do,"  from  the 
senora.  "Are  you  not  one  of  the  picked  fighting 
men  whom  your  Captain  keeps  near  him  for  emer 
gencies  ?" 

"Yes,  senora.  The  morning  Captain  Morando  was 
called  from  his  visit  to  Colonel  Barcelo,  in  Monterey, 
he  had  made  me  first  sergeant.  Thus  I  held  his  horse, 
Senora  Valentino,  while  he  was  within  speaking  with 
you.  You  see,  I  know,  kind  lady.  Benito,  the  porter, 
told  me—" 

"Hush,  man ;  remember  you  are  wounded." 

"Benito  told  me,"  the  soldier  insisted.  "Benito  told 
me — "  he  laughed. 

"Ah!  wounded  men  have  strange  dreams.  I  doubt 
not,  you  have  been  dreaming." 

"I  think  you  have  talked  already  as  much  as  the 
physician's  orders  will  allow,"  interposed  Carmelita. 

"Of  that  I  am  sure,"  agreed  the  senora.  "Come, 
senorita  dona,  let  us  be  going.  Now,"  shaking  her 
finger  at  the  soldier,  "see  that  your  dreams  follow  a 
more  orderly  fashion." 

"But,"  Benito  said,  "soon  the  San  Jose  Captain 
leads  our  beautiful  senora  to  the  padre.  The  Captain 
rides  much  beside  her — ' 

"Not  another  word,  Sergeant.  Now,  I  bid  you  good 
afternoon." 

She  walked  toward  the  door. 

"Forgive  me,  seiiora,"  called  the  sergeant,  anxiously. 
"Benito  spoke  as  if  everyone  knew  already.  Maybe  I 


BITTER   SWEET  275 

wouldn't  have  presumed  to  say  anything — leastwise 
to  yourself — if  that  blow  on  the  head  the  other  day 
hadn't  loosened  my  tongue  as  well  as  my  teeth — " 

"Not  another  word,"  from  Carmelita,  firmly. 

"Senorita,"  spoke  Sefiora  Valentino,  when  once  more 
they  were  in  the  courtyard,  "fate  seems  to  keep  Captain 
Morando's  name  before  us." 

Carmelita  did  not  reply.  The  woman  and  the  girl 
walked  slowly  along  the  broad  gravel  walk  toward  the 
entrance  of  the  hacienda  house. 

"Our  gay  and  handsome  Captain  may  have  lost 
his  heart  and  found  it  a  score  of  times.  Quien  sabe? 
What  would  you  ?  It  is  the  way  of  men.  But  what  need 
have  I  to  tell  a  beautiful  senorita  the  way  of  the 
cavalier?"  The  senora  smiled  bewitchingly. 

Carmelita  bit  her  lip.  Color  rose  to  her  face,  and 
her  eyes  glowed.  She  made  no  reply. 

"Suppose  a  cavalier  boasts  of  his  conquests  when,  at 
some  general  meeting  of  the  departmental  officers,  each 
one,  made  merry  b}'  the  occasion,  has  taken  a  glass  or 
two  of  wine  above  his  custom.  What  of  it?  Was  not 
my  husband,  Colonel  Valentino,  an  officer?  A  brave 
heart  he  had,  and  a  loving  one.  Yet — "  The  senora 
laughed. 

Still  no  word  came  from  Carmelita. 

"Allow  me  to  say  that  Captain  Morando  now  loves 
you,  and  you  only.  What  of  the  past?  You  have  his 
heart  now;  and  I  know  he  has  yours.  Why  not?" 
Another  bewitching  smile. 

Carmelita  continued  walking  by  the  senora's  side, 
not  speaking. 


276    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"If,  then,  you  do  not  intend  to  allow  the  Captain 
to  continue  further  his  courtship,  take  his  word, 
passed  by  him  through  me,  that  he  meant  no  harm." 

From  the  walk  to  the  house  the  girl  had  adroitly 
turned  their  steps  toward  the  courtyard  gate.  Filipo, 
the  porter,  pressed  a  lever.  The  gate  swung  ajar. 
Fifty  paces  away,  comfortably  waiting  under  some 
shade  trees,  were  the  senora's  attendant  peons.  At  a 
word  from  Filipo  they  sprang  to  horse  and  rode  to  the 
gate  in  jiglike  trot. 

"Now,  Senora  Valentino,"  the  girl  said,  "I  shall  leave 
word  with  my  servants  that,  if  you  call  again,  they 
are  to  announce  to  you  that  I  am  not  at  home." 

A  peon  had  brought  the  senora'^  horse.  Kneeling 
he  held  the  stirrup  for  her.  Nimbly  she  found  her  seat. 
The  animal  pranced  gracefully  from  side  to  side. 
She  swung  him  toward  the  gate. 

"Adios !"  she  called  to  Carmelita. 

The  senorita's  trim,  straight  figure  was  disappear 
ing  behind  the  slowly  closing  gate. 

"A  thousand  thanks,  my  courteous  hostess." 

Senora  Valentino  made  her  way  along  the  San 
Jose  road.  For  several  hundred  yards  she  rode  in 
deep  thought,  a  storm  of  counter  currents  rushing 
over  her. 

"Anyway,"  she  reflected,  "Morando's  course  of  true 
love  has  not  been  made  more  smooth  by  my  visit  this 
day."  The  accompanying  laugh  was  not  a  mirthful 
one. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES 

UENOS  noches,  senores." 

Two  men  sitting  by  a  fire  rose  to  their  feet. 

"Buenos  noches,"  responded  one  of  them.  The  men 
moved  a  little  toward  the  newcomer,  one  of  them  limp 
ing  considerably,  as  if  injured. 

"I  say,"  came  from  the  lame  man,  "perhaps  this  is 
some  one  our  guide  has  sent  in  search  of  us." 

"We'll  soon  see,"  replied  the  other,  in  English.  Then 
in  Spanish :  "We  are  lost  here  in  the  forest.  Can  you 
tell  us  where  we  can  find  food  and  shelter  for  the  night?" 

"Of  a  surety,  senor,  of  a  surety,"  the  stranger  re 
plied.  "I  am  major-domo  of  Senor  Miramonte's  ha 
cienda.  This  is  his  property  here.  The  senor  and  his 
lady  are  out,  but  wayfarer  guests  are  none  the  less 
welcome.  I  saw  your  fire  and  thought  some  vagrant 
peons  had  built  it.  We  greatly  dread  forest  and 
pasture  fires  this  time  of  year.  Come,  senors,  come 
with  me." 

"He  offers  us  the  hospitality  of  a  rancho  house." 

"I'll  be  deuced  glad  for  shelter  anywhere,"  the  in 
jured  man  replied,  both  speaking  in  English.  "I'm  at 
home  on  a  ship,  but  riding  a  stiff-backed  horse  with 
wooden  legs  is  too  much  for  me.  Ugh!  I'm  sore  as  if 

277 


278     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

I'd  been  put  in  a  sack  and  beaten  with  clubs.  Besides, 
I'm  actually  seasick.  Commodore,  think  of  that !  Sea 
sick!  All  for  riding  a  jointless,  iron- jawed  broncho." 

The  man  addressed  as  "Commodore"  laughed. 
"Maybe  riding  your  horse  over  that  twenty-foot  preci 
pice  is  a  contributary  cause  to  your  soreness,  Captain." 

The  horseman  had  dismounted  and  was  carefully  ex 
tinguishing  the  fire,  treading  on  each  separate  ember 
until  it  was  out. 

"Gentlemen,  will  you  come  with  meP'  he  asked, 
finally.  "I'll  bring  you  to  your  own." 

"What  does  he  say?"  asked  the  one  who  had  been 
called  "Captain." 

"He  is  offering  a  house  after  the  Spanish  custom." 

"Well,  indeed!  One  of  the  first  things  I  do  when  I 
get  on  shipboard  will  be  to  learn  Spanish." 

The  one  riding  moved  away  from  the  wide-branching 
oak,  where  the  fire  had  been,  out  toward  the  open.  It 
was  bright  starlight. 

"Let  the  injured  one  ride  my  horse.  I  will  show  the 
path  on  foot.  Come.  It  is  not  far  to  Seiior  Mira- 
monte's  house." 

The  Commodore  interpreted  this  to  his  companion. 

"If  it  isn't  far  I'd  rather  crawl  than  ride,"  the  Cap 
tain  replied.  "Where  in  the  world  is  the  path?  It's 
light  enough,  but  I  surely  do  not  see  any.  Say,  is  that 
fellow  an  agent  for  a  bandit  or  something  like  that? 
The  pay  of  an  American  naval  captain  is  such,  you 
know " 

"Never  fear,  Hamilton,"  laughed  the  Commodore. 
"Your  pay  and  mine  combined,  for  a  year,  would  be 


A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES         279 

hardly  more  than  a  bagatelle  for  one  of  these  land- 
and-cattle  barons,  such  as  is  Miramonte,  I  believe." 

"You've  been  here  before?" 

"Yes,  ten  or  a  dozen  years  ago.  Rode  from  Yerba 
Buena  to  San  Jose  along  a  road  which  I  trust  must  be 
near  here,  though  I  couldn't  find  it  to-day.  Went  from 
San  Jose  back  to  San  Francisco  harbor  along  the  east 
ern  side  of  the  valley.  Remember,  Hamilton,  what  your 
name  is  for  the  present?" 

"Certainly,  I'm  plain  Smith." 

"And  I'm  plain  Jones." 

They  followed  the  man  who  was  leading  the  horse. 
In  the  open  they  could  see  him  easily.  In  the  dense 
growths  they  followed  by  the  sound.  Captain  Hamilton 
was  becoming  greatly  fatigued  when  a  number  of  well- 
lighted  buildings  came  into  view.  Dogs  barked  and 
Indian  men  and  women  talked  excitedly  as  the  party 
approached. 

A  courtyard  gate  opened  wide  to  receive  them. 

"Behold  the  bandits'  cave,  Smith!'9  said  the  Commo 
dore. 

"I  see  it,  Jones,"  replied  the  injured  man.  "I  de 
clare,  it  looks  good  to  me.  Will  the  head  bandit  de 
mand  that  we  prove  our  identity,  or  something  like 
that?" 

"I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  the  owner  of  the  premises 
is  away  at  present.  The  man  who  brought  us  here  is 
major-domo,  which  might  be  translated,  overseer.  I 
fancy  he  is  altogether  in  charge  and  will  make  us  as 
comfortable  as  we  could  wish." 

The  major-domo   gave   his   horse   to   a   peon,   then 


280     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

waved  his  hand  to  the  front  door  of  the  house.  "Gen 
tlemen,  it  is  as  I  said  before.  What  you  see  is  jours. 
Enter  your  own." 

"I'm  willing,"  agreed  Smith  when  he  was  told  what 
had  been  said.  "A  bath  and  a  comfortable  bed  appeal 
to  me  just  now." 

They  were  brought  to  large,  airy  chambers  within. 
A  hot  tub-bath  was  prepared  for  Smith;  while  a  peon, 
skillful  in  massaging,  kneaded  his  aching  muscles.  The 
injury  to  his  knee,  sustained  in  falling,  was  rather 
severe.  The  massaging  peon  bound  it  tightly  with  va 
rious  poultices  of  herbs. 

"I  say,  man,  that's  too  hot,"  Smith  protested. 

Jones  grinned.  "Perhaps  the  bandit's  servant  is 
preparing  you  like  a  trussed  goose." 

"I  say,  Commodore " 

"Jones,  my  friend." 

"Very  well,  Jones.  If  this  confounded  thing  were 
around  your  leg,  you  wouldn't  laugh.  You're  my  su 
perior  officer,  and  all  that " 

"I'm  Jones"  the  other  said,  emphatically. 

"Pardon  me  Com 1  mean,  Jones.  Oh !  Ouch !  he's 

taking  those  weeds  right  out  of  boiling  water  and  tying 
them  around  my  smashed  knee.  I  say,  man " 

The  Indian  paid  no  attention  to  his  remonstrances 
or  squirming. 

"Why,  Jones !    Where  did  you  get  those  clothes  ?" 

Jones  was  attired  in  the  regulation  house-dress  of  the 
California  grandee,  from  fluted  shirt-front  to  silver- 
clasped  shoes. 

"Found  them  in  my  room,  with  a  peon  valet  ready  to 


A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES         281 

assist  me  into  them.  Doubtless  you'll  be  treated  the 
same  way." 

"Well!  I'll  admire  myself.  But  my  bandaged  knee 
wouldn't  fit  into  such  trouserettes  as  you  have  on." 

The  bandaging  was  finished  at  last.  The  peon  spoke 
to  the  patient  in  Spanish. 

"What  is  he  saying?" 

"Says  for  you  to  go  to  bed  soon.  In  the  morning 
he  will  remove  the  bandages,  and  hopes  your  knee  will 
be  greatly  improved." 

"Go  to  bed.  Well,  the  quarters  are  sumptuous 
enough.  High-posted  bed,  mahogany  bureaus — one, 
two,  three  of  them;  and  chairs,  mahogany  too,  and 
heavy  enough  for  state  occasions.  It's  all  fine,  if  I  only 
had  a  bite  of  something  to  eat." 

The  major-domo  entered  the  room,  several  peons  fol 
lowing  him,  carrying  trays  on  which  were  steaming 
dishes. 

Smith  was  quickly  arrayed  in  a  flannel  dressing  gown. 
A  table  was  laid  and  moved  over  to  his  chair.  Savory 
meats,  vegetables,  and  fruits  were  ready.  Wine  was 
uncorked  and  placed  at  the  hungry  man's  hand. 

The  major-domo  gave  some  further  orders  to  the 
peons,  and  then  spoke  to  the  traveler  who  understood 
Spanish.  That  worthy's  eyes  twinkled.  "I'm  invited 
to  supper  with  the  family,  or  the  part  of  it  in  the  house. 
I  hope  you'll  enjoy  your  meal,  and  have  a  good  rest 
to-night.  The  Indian  surgeon  says  if  necessary  he'll 
use  still  hotter  and  stronger  applications  to-morrow." 

Smith  was  comforting  himself  with  the  warm  meal. 
His  fellow  traveler  followed  the  major-domo  along  a 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

corridor,  down  a  short  flight  of  stairs,  to  a  door  which 
a  peon  within  opened  at  their  approach.  The  major- 
domo  bowed  low,  and  left  the  man  standing  at  the 
door. 

"In  my  son's  absence  I  welcome  you,"  said  a  very 
Idndly  voice.  "I  am  Senor  Miramonte's  mother." 

"I  am  delighted  to  greet  you,  senora." 

"I  regret  your  companion  is  injured  and  unable  to 
dine  with  us." 

"I  trust  he'll  be  well  to-morrow." 

"Senor — I  do  not  know  your  name?" 

"Er-r-Jones."     His  face  flushed  a  little. 

"Senor  Jones,  I  wish  to  introduce  you  to  my  friend, 
Senora  Valentino,  who  is  also  our  guest  to-night.  Se 
nora  Valentino,  our  esteemed  visitor,  the  Senor 
Jones." 

Senora  Valentino  extended  her  hand  to  Jones. 
"Senor  Jones,  I  am  pleased  to  see  you."  A  slow,  de 
liberate  smile  lit  up  her  features.  "Am  glad  to  meet 
you — here."  Her  low  bow  did  not  wholly  cover  the 
quizzical  look  which  darted  from  her  eyes. 

They  were  ushered  into  a  dining  room  where  a  table 
generously  laid  was  before  them. 

"Senora  Valentino,"  asked  the  hostess,  "will  you  not 
take  the  head  of  the  table?" 

The  senora  complied. 

"I  am  not  very  strong  these  days,"  the  elderly  lady 
explained,  "and  I  am  happy  that  so  fair  and  clever  a 
hand  as  Senora  Valentino's  is  here  to  manage  in  serving 
the  dinner." 

Senora  Valentino  presided  gracefully. 


A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES         283 

"Senor  Jones,"  she  said,  with  just  a  hint  of  emphasis 
on  'Jones,'  "may  I  ask  if  you  have  been  long  in  Alta 
California?" 

"Well,  no.     In  fact,  only  a  few  days  or  so." 

The  hour  of  dinner  passed  pleasantly.  Places  of  in 
terest  were  spoken  of ;  men  and  events  discussed.  Spain, 
France,  England,  were  passed  in  review.  Senora  Mira- 
montes  was  European  born.  Her  husband  had  been 
Spanish  ambassador  at  the  great  capitals ;  and  the 
splendid  Miramonte  grant  in  West  Santa  Clara  Val 
ley  was  his  reward  for  able  service. 

"Thirty  years  and  more  have  I  been  here,"  she  said. 
"It  was  a  splendid  wilderness  when  we  came ;  neverthe 
less,  a  wilderness.  We  have  claimed  it  for  our  own, 
and  now  it  smiles  for  us.  The  flag  of  great  Spain  once 
waved  over  these  valleys.  The  tread  of  Spanish  friars 
hallowed  the  ground ;  and  God  blessed  the  work  of  these 
men  with  hundredfold  increase.  Then  the  Mexican 
colors  replaced  those  of  Spain.  Ah,  me!  But  Mexico 
cares  nothing  for  us;  and  at  heart  we  are  still  Span 
iards.  Yes,  Spaniards ;  never  Mexicans !" 

The  meal  over,  the  party  went  to  an  adjoining 
room.  A  fire  flickered  on  a  vast,  old-fashioned  hearth. 
Candles  were  not  lighted,  and  the  shadows  danced 
fitfully  on  the  walls  and  tapestries  of  the  apart 
ment. 

Senora  Miramonte  still  wished  to  speak  of  Europe. 

"My  husband  was  once  ambassador  at  Saint  Peters 
burg.  We  met  there  a  Russian  who  had  been  in  these 
Californias.  He  had  been  in  the  diplomatic  service  here 
in  Monterey,  and  knew  the  country  well.  Knew  it  north 


284     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

and  south  and  east  and  west.  'Soon  Spain  loses  that 
country — all  of  it ;  for  Mexico  is  going,'  were  his  words  ; 
and  he  was  a  very  shrewd,  far-seeing  man.  He  also 
said,  'Then  the  English  and  the  Americans  will  come 
to  blows  over  the  empire  that  in  large  part  is  no  man's 
land.  Not  twenty  years,'  he  would  say,  'after  Spain 
withdraws  from  North  America,  not  twenty  years  will 
elapse  before  the  British  Lion  and  the  American  Eagle 
will  bare  the  teeth  and  claws  to  each  other  over  these 
great  stretches  of  wonderful  country.' ' 

She  paused  a  moment. 

"The  British  Lion  has  not  yet  shown  his  teeth.  He  is 
ready  to  do  so,  just  the  same.  Do  we  not  know  of 
Texas,  and  the  country  north  of  us  here — Oregon  they 
call  it?  The  American  Eagle  has  not  yet  cried  his  war- 
scream  ;  yet  it  is  swelling  in  his  throat." 

"Madam,  you  speak  of  great  subjects,"  was  Jones's 
reply. 

She  nodded,  the  light  now  playing  uninterruptedly 
over  her  features  which  were  still  keen  and  comely. 
"No.  It  is  my  friend,  Lomilkovsky,  who  does  the 
speaking;  and  he  died  sixteen  years  ago." 

No  one  broke  the  silence  for  several  moments. 

"I  may  have  spoken  too  plainly,"  the  venerable  lady 
went  on.  "Rarely  has  the  past  opened  before  me  as 
to-night.  Spain  cannot  win;  and,  I  say,  let  the  flag 
rule  the  Pacific  Ocean  that  can."  She  arose.  "Senor, 
you  breakfast  with  us  to-morrow.  Now,  please  excuse 
me,  friends.  I  must  retire.  Early  hours  compel  me. 
Sefiora  Valentino,  will  you  kindly  act  as  hostess  for  the 
rest  of  the  evening  in  my  place?" 


A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES         285 

"Certainly,  senora,  certainly." 

The  light  shone  on  her  snow-white  hair  as  she  bowed 
her  head  in  final  good  night. 

"Well,  Sefior  Jones,  the  sitting  room  is  pleasant. 
Shall  we  return?"  from  Senora  Valentino. 

"With  all  my  heart." 

The  Commodore's  features  were  keen  and  powerful. 
Heavy  eyebrows  stood  out  across  his  forehead.  A 
strong  chin,  cleft  in  the  middle,  balanced  a  well-carved 
nose.  His  lips  shut  like  the  jaws  of  a  trap.  His  hair, 
bushy  and  dark,  glanced  grayish  in  the  light.  Withal 
a  kindly  smile  seemed  rarely  absent  from  his  face.  A 
martinet  on  the  quarterdeck,  off  it  he  was  the  most 
genial  of  men. 

"I  have  not  inquired  how  your  friend  met  his  acci 
dent,"  from  the  senora. 

"We  set  out  at  daybreak  this  morning  expecting  to 
make  our  destination  by  night.  In  the  afternoon 
something  frightened  my  friend's  horse.  It  took  the 
bit  in  its  teeth,  and  jumped  over  the  bank  of  a  ravine. 
Luckily,  there  was  a  pond  of  water  at  the  bottom.  My 
friend  was  disabled.  The  horse  escaped  despite  our 
guide's  efforts  to  lasso  it.  The  guide  set  out  to  get 
another  mount.  Time  passed,  and  he  did  not  return. 
I  tied  my  horse,  securely,  I  thought,  and  climbed  a 
high  hill  to  get  sight  of  some  habitation.  I  could  see 
none.  I  returned  to  find  my  own  horse  gone.  Then  we 
set  out  on  foot  to  find  shelter.  I  knew  the  Camino 
Real  was  somewhere  to  the  east  of  us.  Our  progress 
was  necessarily  slow.  Darkness  came.  After  wander 
ing  aimlessly  for  a  while  we  built  the  fire  which  the 


286     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

major-domo  saw.  Then,"  smiling,  "the  hospitality  of 
California  was  offered." 

"Senor  Miramonte  will  rejoice,  I  know,  when  he 
learns  that  Senor  Jones  and  his  friend — the  name — I 
did  not  hear  it " 

"My  friend's  name  is  Smith." 

"Ah! — Smith.  Senor  Miramonte  will  rejoice  that 
his  house  could  give  hospitality  to  the  Senors  Jones  and 
Smith — unusual  names.  No?"  She  looked  him  full  in 
the  eyes,  her  smile  inscrutable. 

"California's  hospitality  is  proverbial  the  world 
over,"  was  his  evasive  reply. 

"Ah!  yes.  Ah!  yes.  The  world  over,  you  say.  I 
too  have  been  much  about.  May  it  not  be,  Senor — ah ! 
— Jones,  that  we  have  met  before  ?  Was  it,  perhaps,  in 
London  three  years  ago,  or,  even  in  your  capital, 
Washington,  two  years  past?" 

"Senora  Valentino,  let  me  say,  once  having  seen  you 
no  man  could  forget  you.  It  was  in  Washington,  also 
in  London ;  and,  before  that,  in  Vienna,  that  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  you." 

"And  the  Senor  Smith,  your  companion?"  smilingly. 

"Madam,  I  cry  a  truce  of  this.  I  am  Commodore 
Billings,  of  the  American  navy.  The  man  with  me  is 
Captain  Hamilton,  of  my  flagship.  For  the  present 
neither  of  us  cares  to  be  thus  known." 

The  woman  arched  her  eyebrows.  "That  is  entirely 
the  affair  of  the  Senor  Commodore  and  the  Senor  Capi- 
tan.  Still,  why  so  far  from  the  flagship?" 

"We  were  riding  incognito  through  a  peaceful  and 
friendly  land,  seiiora." 


A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES         287 

"Rumors  float  about,  Sefior  Officer." 

The  man  looked  into  the  fire  for  a  moment.  "Senora 
Valentino,  I  have  told  you  who  I  am.  I  will  tell  you 
also  that  I  am  in  command  of  the  Pacific  squadron  of 
the  American  navy.  Will  you  be  as  candid  with  me, 
and  tell  me  why  you  are  in  this  country?" 

She  laughed.  "You  haven't  yet  told  me  why  you  are 
traveling  under  an  assumed  name;  neither,  why  you 
are  on  the  mainland  of  California." 

"Undoubtedly  for  diversion,  sefiora." 

"Come,  Seiior  Commodore,  it  is  as  our  hostess  said, 
is  it  not  so?  that  the  Lion  and  the  Eagle  are  straining 
to  the  contest  over  spoils  vast  as  the  territory  of  all 
Europe.  Come,  let  us  be  fair  with  each  other.  You 
are  here  in  the  interest  of  the  United  States.  Some 
special  errand  leads  you  on  a  secret  journey.  An  ac 
cident  brings  you  and  me  under  the  same  roof ;  and  fate, 
perhaps,  leaves  us  here  alone  together  in  conversation. 
It  may  be  that  you  and  I  could  come  to  some  under 
standing  about  affairs  of  mighty  interest.  Indeed,  it 
may  be,  save  two  nations  from  grave  misunderstand- 
ing." 

His  smile  was  as  genial  as  ever,  as  he  said:  "The 
senora  favors  Great  Britain  in  the  dispute  she  alleges 
may  some  time  arise.  Am  I  not  correct?" 

She  bowed.  "You  met  the  Sefior  O'Donnell  a  week 
ago,  and  again  four  days  ago.  Was  it  at  your  last 
meeting  he  told  you  of  my  preferences,  or  at  the  first?" 
She  laughed,  and  playfully  tapped  the  Commodore's 
hand  with  her  fan. 

"Madam,  may  I  say  to  you  that  I  have  letters  in  my 


288     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

possession  from  our  State  Department,  in  Washington, 
which  relate  not  only  to  your  presence  here  but  which 
also  tell  something  of  your  work  as  England's  secret 
agent  in  Alta  California." 

Again  the  woman  laughed.  "Child's  play,  Commo 
dore  !  Child's  play !  The  man  who  sent  this  informa 
tion  to  your  State  Department,  in  Washington,  is  here, 
and  in  touch  with  you.  Certainly,  he  told  you  as  much 
as  he  wrote  to  Washington." 

The  officer  made  no  reply. 

"Commodore  Billings,  I  deal  with  you,  and  with  you 
only.  I  take  not  account  of  the  frontiersman,  O'Don- 
nell.  The  United  States,  though  still  young,  is  a  great 
nation;  and  should  be  represented  by  men  such  as 
you." 

"Senora,  O'Donnell  has  the  confidence  of  Mr.  Tyler, 
President  of  the  United  States." 

"Has  your  Mr.  Tyler  the  confidence  of  the  republic 
which  made  him  its  President?" 

There  was  no  reply. 

The  senora  arose.  The  jewels  in  her  hair  flamed  and 
glittered  in  the  firelight.  A  hundred  questions  seemed 
to  burn  in  the  depths  of  her  eyes.  She  extended  her 
hand,  as  if  in  gesture.  The  warrior-diplomat  was  im 
pelled  to  arise  also,  and  to  take  the  hand  in  his. 

"Senor  the  Commodore,  you  go  to  conference  with 
Mendoza,  of  Mission  San  Jose.  Is  it  not  so?" 

He  started  to  reply,  but  checked  himself. 

"Think  on  what  you  do.  We  of  this  province — Men 
doza  and  a  handful  of  others  excepted — desire  not  to 
be  ruled  by  your  nation." 


A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES 

"Senora  Valentino,  I  am  but  a  student  of  conditions 
here." 

She  moved  closer  toward  him.    He  still  held  her  hand. 

"You  do  not  come  with  prejudged  verdict?"  In  her 
earnestness  she  placed  her  disengaged  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Assuredly  not.  Of  course  I  know  the  general  de 
sire  of  my  government.  Further  than  that  I  do  what 
seems  wisest." 

"Then  consult  the  people  of  California.  See  Padre 
Osuna,  that  saintly  Chrysostom  of  this  Western  world. 
Meet  Colonel  Barcelo,  the  acting-governor.  Interview 
Pio  Pico,  and  his  brother  Andreas.  See  the  Peraltas, 
the  Carillos.  Senor  Mendoza  represents  but  few  be 
sides  himself." 

She  moved  away  from  him.  "As  to  this  O'Donnell — 
O'Donnell !  He  is  a  man  with  a  price  on  his  head, 
placed  there  by  the  English  government.  What  wonder 
he  intrigues  against  England!" 

"Some  political  offense,  of  course." 

"For  attempted  murder!  He  struck  down  his  cap 
tain  on  the  parade  ground  in  Dublin,  following  an 
admonition." 

"Zounds,  madam!" 

"This  would-be  assassin  carries  word  to  you  from 
Senor  Mendoza — why  does  he  forget  he  is  Colonel 
Mendoza? — carries  word  that  Mendoza  has  wishes  for 
the  department  of  California  which  differ  from  the 
wishes  of  the  people  themselves  who  comprise  this 
department.  Indeed!  And  who  is  this  Mendoza?  Is 
he  not  of  a  make-up  so  unrestrained  that  once,  in  a 


290     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

burst  of  temper,  he  even  burned  to  the  ground  his  mag 
nificent  home?  Ask  the  people  of  California  if  this  is 
not  true.  Bethink  you,  my  Commodore." 

"Senora,  I  ask  you,  what  is  in  the  wind?" 

"Let  us  be  seated,  Senor  Commodore." 

She  looked  at  him  intently.  "Texas  is  free  from 
Mexico.  Some  of  your  States  wish  to  accept  the  re 
public  of  Texas  as  one  of  themselves.  The  States  north 
of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  line  object.  They  oppose  ex 
tension  of  Negro  slavery.  Your  President  Tyler  is  on 
the  fence,  dangling  his  long  legs  in  the  air,  prepared 
to  jump  to  either  side,  as  it  seems  expedient  for  him." 

The  Commodore  covered  his  mouth  with  his  hand,  to 
conceal  an  involuntary  smile. 

"Oregon  is  now  jointly  held  by  the  United  States 
and  England.  Some  of  your  States  wish  for  a  part  of 
Oregon.  Others  make  opposition;  and  the  opposition 
this  time  comes  from  those  south  of  the  Mason  and 
Dixon  line.  The  reason?  No  possibility  of  slavery 
in  Oregon.  Your  President,  from  his  perch,  dangles 
his  long  legs  yet  more  alertly." 

Billings  now  laughed  outright. 

"Senora,  you  are  droll." 

"Is  what  I  say  not  true,  my  Commodore?" 

"Oregon  is  ours,  my  lady,  by  occupation.  Doctor 
Whitman  and  his  missionaries  live  in  that  country; 
are  Christianizing  the  Indians,  and  drawing  settlers 
from  beyond  the  Mississippi.  Oregon  is  ours,  I  say, 
by  right  of  occupation." 

"A  hundred  years  before  your  Whitman  saw  light 
missionaries  from  French  Canada  lived  among  those 


A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES 

same  tribes.  England  succeeded  to  the  rights  of  France. 
Oregon,  then,  is  England's  by  this  right  of  occupation 
of  which  you  speak." 

"But,  the  rifles  of  the  American  settlers  in  Oregon! 
They  will  speak,  and  speak  strongly,  my  lady." 

"But  the  rifles  of  the  Spanish  hacenderos  in  Califor 
nia,  my  Commodore!  Can  they  not  speak?  Commo 
dore  Billings,  a  shot  in  California  will  echo  around  the 
world !" 

She  leaned  toward  him  and  placed  her  hand  on  the 
arm  of  his  chair.  "A  few  months  ago  I  saw  Doctor  Mc- 
Loughlin,  head  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  at  Van 
couver.  He  knows  of  the  work  of  your  missionary 
Whitman.  My  Commodore,  twenty  British  ships-of- 
war  are  in  the  Pacific  waters.  I  saw  them,  one  and 
all,  on  my  journey  to  the  North.  They  are  not  far 
from  here." 

"So  many,  Senora  Valentino?" 

"That  many." 

"I  did  not  think  Admiral  Fairbanks " 

She  waited  for  him  to  continue.  As  he  did  not  she 
went  on: 

"That  enthusiast,  Mendoza,  thinks  he  can  persuade 
you  to  seize  our  capital,  Monterey.  Suppose  you  do? 
The  province  will  seethe  in  rebellion,  and  call  to  Ad 
miral  Fairbanks  for  aid.  He  will  give  it.  That  means 
war.  Your  United  States  is  unprepared  for  war  at 
sea.  Mexico  then  goes  under  an  English  protectorate. 
Texas  goes  back  to  Mexico,  and  England  will  then  con 
trol  the  Pacific  Coast  from  the  tropics  to  the  Russian 
line  in  the  far  north." 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Both  were  standing  now. 

"Senora  Valentino,  neither  Mendoza,  nor  anyone, 
can  lead  me  into  an  unconsidered  move  in  this  matter." 

"To-night  you  had  an  appointment  with  Mendoza. 
Fate  intervened.  To-morrow  sees  not  the  danger  re 
moved.  He  will  ask  you  to  seize  this  province  for  the 
United  States.  Commodore  Billings,  ruin  comes  if  you 
do." 

"Senora,  I  have  never  seen  Mendoza." 

"You  know  of  his  wishes.     Others  do." 

*'.But  I  shall  judge  for  myself." 

Again  her  inscrutable  smile.  "Commodore,  I  thank 
you.  I  mean — that  is  to  say — I  thank  you  for  listening 
to  me  to-night.  I  pray  good  will  come  of  it."  Her 
hand  was  on  his  arm.  He  took  it  in  fervent  grasp. 

"Senora,  Europe  knows  you  for  a  brilliant  woman. 
I  say  you  are  that,  and  more.  I  am  glad  to  have  met 
you  again."  He  looked  at  his  watch.  "It  is  late.  I 
fear  I  have  kept  you  too  long.  I  ask  your  pardon." 

"My  Commodore,  have  a  care,  only,  that  you  do  not 
ask  pardon  of  the  world  one  day  for  what  your  decision 
to-morrow  may  bring  about." 

"Your  words  do  you  honor,  senora.  May  I  ask  leave 
now  to  retire?" 

"The  leave  is  yours,  Commodore." 

After  good  night  had  been  said  Senora  Valentino 
returned  to  her  chair  by  the  fire.  Into  the  flames  she 
looked  for  a  long  time. 

"The  Commodore  talks  in  his  silence,"  she  finally 
said  to  herself,  smiling  grimly.  "The  pages  of  this 
drama  fast  turn  themselves — very  fast — to  the  issue. 


A  FEW  DIPLOMATIC  TOUCHES         293 

'But  I  shall  judge  for  myself.'  Ah!  Commodore,  your 
silence  is  indeed  golden.  So,  Mendoza  wishes  you  to 
seize  Monterey — evidently — but,  'you  will  judge  for 
yourself.'  Discreet  Commodore !  But  we  shall  see — we 
shall  see!" 

The  thick  oaken  log  in  the  fireplace'  was  ashes  before 
the  senora  went  to  her  room. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
ALMOST 

SENORA  VALENTINO  rode  slowly  along  the  way 
leading  from  Santa  Clara  to  Pueblo  San  Jose. 
Willow  trees  lined  the  edge  of  the  road,  lifting  their 
featherly  foliage  in  greeting  to  the  morning  sun.  Yel 
low  light  filtered  through  and  marked  the  interlacing 
plumes  with  myriad  fairy  figures  in  golden  tints.  The 
branches  nodded  and  undulated  in  low-toned  rhythm. 
Tempered  breezes  from  the  bay,  sweet  with  the  breath 
of  virgin  meadow,  hung  light-winged  over  this  shaded 
alameda.  Peons,  men  and  women,  worked  in  the  vege 
table  gardens  by  the  wayside,  singing  as  they  labored. 
Betimes  they  used  the  guttural  words  of  their  aborigine 
tongue,  the  age-old  longing  of  savage  man  flowing  in 
heavy  note  and  shrill  refrain.  Again,  some  neophyte 
rested  for  the  moment  on  hoe  or  mattock  and  intoned 
a  hymn.  Then  knoll  and  hollow  resounded  as  the  chil 
dren  of  the  wilderness  sang  the  words  of  their  new 
found  faith. 

The  long  white  line  marking  the  fort  at  San  Jose  had 
come  plainly  into  view  when  the  senora  halted. 

"My  message  requested  the  Captain  to  meet  me  here 
at  this  hour,"  she  said  to  no  one  in  particular.  Her 
mounted  Indian  guard  was  a  score  of  paces  behind. 
Just  then  Captain  Farquharson,  coming  at  swift  gal 
lop,  turned  the  bend  just  ahead. 

294 


ALMOST—  295 

"Good  morning !"  she  called  to  him. 

"Good  morning !"  he  called  back.  "Well,  the  great 
question,"  as  he  drew  up  at  her  side.  "Your  word 
reached  me  after  midnight.  Our  signal-fire  was  lighted 
within  two  hours,  on  the  high  mountains  east  of  San 
Jose.  This  morning  at  daylight  the  signal-smoke  told 
me  that  Admiral  Fairbanks's  anchors  are  under  weigh 
for  Monterey  harbor.  Now,  your  note  told  me  nothing 
of  the  particulars  of  your  interview  with  Billings  last 
night.  You  managed  to  gain  his  attention,  I'm  sure." 

"I  did.  But  our  English  admiral?  Tell  me,  is  he 
of  two  minds,  as  he  was  the  other  day;  or  have  they 
crystallized  into  one?" 

"He  has  agreed  to  keep  his  fleet  hidden  until  our 
signal-fire  or  smoke  informs  him  it  is  the  hour  to  enter 
Monterey  harbor  and  take  possession." 

"Ah !  that  is  his  mind  now." 

"Senora,  I  await  with  great  interest  some  news  of 
your  interview  last  night  with  the  American.  He  must 
have  said  something  of  deep  import  that  you  sent  word 
to  signal  at  once  our  admiral's  fleet.  Fairbanks  reaches 
Monterey  easily  to-morrow.  What  I  signal  him  to  do 
there,  and  how  soon,  will  be  greatly  determined  by  what 
you  learned  last  night  from  this  Billings." 

"Well,  Captain,  since  nothing  is  to  be  done  until  to 
morrow,  you  have  time  to  answer  me  a  question  or  two." 
The  lady  laughed,  then  went  on :  "How  did  you  manage 
to  get  our  gringo  naval  heroes  lost  at  the  right  time 
yesterday?" 

"Simple,  very  simple,  indeed.  They  lost  themselves. 
One  hero's  saddle  seat  was  uncertain.  He  gripped  his 


296     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

horse  with  his  calves,  to  make  himself  more  secure,  for 
getting  the  sharp  spurs  on  his  heels.  The  indignant 
broncho  jumped  over  the  nearest  bank,  his  rider  just 
naturally  following.  I  declare,  the  gallant  officer 
actually  spun  head  over  heels  twice  before  he  landed  in 
the  water.  The  peon  with  the  two  gentlemen  was  held 
by  our  men  under  pretended  suspicion  of  being  a  runa 
way,  when  he  went  in  search  of  another  horse.  This 
left  our  heroes  without  a  guide;  and  Valeriano,  the 
Miramonte  major-domo,  did  his  part  when  the  stars 
began  to  shine.  Now,  sefLora,  of  course  Commodore 
Billings " 

She  interrupted  him.  "If  the  gringo  hero's  horse 
had  not  obligingly  jumped  over  that  bank,  how  would 
you  have  got  the  Commodore  to  Senor  Miramonte's 
hacienda  house  at  the  right  time?" 

"Depend  on  it,  I  would  have  found  a  way.  Bringing 
them  to  -the  Miramonte's  place  as  suspicious  characters 
would  have  been  the  last  resort.  You  would  have  identi 
fied  the  Commodore,  in  that  case,  and  would  have  made 
all  possible  amends  for  unwarranted  detention." 

"Of  course."    The  two  joined  their  laughter. 

"Mendoza's  peons  were  scouring  the  woods  last  night 
for  the  officers.  Our  fellows  furnished  them  plenty 
of  information.  It  didn't  lead  them  to  Miramonte's 
house,  you  may  be  sure."  Again  the  forest  echoed  the 
sound  of  their  laughter. 

"Well,"  from  the  sefiora,  "our  two  worthies  set  out 
comfortably  enough  this  morning,  after  early  breakfast 
with  us.  Alberto,  the  Miramonte's  peon,  guides  them 
to  Senor  Mendoza.  Alberto,"  lifting  her  eyebrows, 


ALMOST—  297 

"understands  English.  When  a  lad,  a  religious^minded 
gringo  tallow-trader  captain  took  him  to  Boston,  and 
had  him  educated,  hoping  he  would  become  a  missionary 
here  of  the  tallow-trader's  faith.  Instead  he  reverted 
to  the  ordinary  peon,  and  an  ardent  Americano  hater, 
into  the  bargain." 

"Fortunately  for  us.  It  was  simply  invaluable  that 
he  was  present  the  other  day  at  that  Billings-O'Donnell 
talk  at  Half  Moon  bay,  and  thus  found  out  about  the 
appointment  to  meet  at  Mendoza's  last  night.  But," 
laughing  a  little,  yet  serious,  "I'm  anxious  as  to  what 
happened  last  night  at  Miramonte's." 

"Just  one  more  question,  Captain.  In  what  frame 
of  mind  was  Padre  Osuna  when  you  last  saw  him?" 

"You  have  swung  him  to  our  side,  sefiora,  for  the 
second  time.  But  he  forced  from  Fairbanks  and  me 
papers  giving  these  natives  extraordinary  rights  when 
the  country  is  ours." 

"The  padre  is  where  now,  do  you  judge?" 

"Somewhere  near  San  Luis  Obispo.  He  travels  like 
the  whirlwind.  Yesterday  he  swept  the  crowd  off  its 
feet  when  he  spoke  from  the  church  steps  at  Monterey. 
They  cheered  and  stormed  for  English  rule.  His  dis 
course  over,  he  set  off  for  the  south  with  the  impetuosity 
of  a  crusader." 

"Very  well,  my  Captain,  we  have  done  our  part.  It 
remains  for  Fairbanks  to  do  his." 

"Now,  senora,  why  was  it  you  sent  the  hurried  mes 
senger  last  night?  What  did  Billings  say  that  you, 
thought  such  haste  necessary?" 

"Practically  nothing." 


298     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  beg  pardon,  senora.  You  must  have  misunder 
stood  me.  I " 

"I  understood  you  perfectly." 

"Well,  then,  senora,  think  of  your  reply." 

"My  reply  was  that  Commodore  Billings  said  prac 
tically  nothing  from  which  I  thought  haste  necessary. 
It  was  from  what  he  palpably  refrained  from  saying 
that  I  made  my  inference." 

Farquharson  drew  his  bridle-rein.  His  horse  cur 
veted  over  the  turf,  under  pressure  of  the  curb-bit. 
He  drew  the  animal  back  to  the  woman's  side.  "Senora 
Valentino,  what  does  Billings  intend  to  do?" 

"To  seize  Monterey  for  the  United  States  if " 

"If  what?" 

"If  he  can  find  reasonable  excuse,  in  the  attitude  of 
the  hacenderos  here,  for  such  a  move." 

"But  can  he?" 

"He  can,  if  Colonel  Mendoza  is  minded  to  supply  it." 

"But,  senora,  at  the  Mendoza  baile  the  entire 
countryside  cried  out  for  an  English  protectorate." 

"Yes,  but  we  made  the  minds  of  these  men  for  them. 
The  structure  may  not  be  the  most  lasting." 

"But,  perdition !  they " 

"Admiral  Fairbanks  must  seize  Monterey  as  soon  as 
he  reaches  there,"  she  went  on. 

"He  must !  By  heaven  he  must !  I'll  ruin  him  before 
all  England  if  he  flinches." 

"Remember,  Captain,  Commodore  Billings  will  fight." 

"My  word,  senora !  Fight  us !  Why,  bless  my  soul ! 
our  fleet  outnumbers  him  at  least  three  to  one.  Fair 
banks  could  sink  him  in  an  hour." 


ALMOST—  299 

The  woman  leaned  in  her  saddle  toward  the  officer. 
"I  shall  be  in  Monterey  all  day  to-morrow.  So  must 
you,  Captain." 

They  shook  hands  over  the  manes  of  their  horses 
and  parted  company,  the  Captain  riding  swiftly  across 
the  fields,  the  lady  walking  her  mount  toward  San 
Jose. 

The  adobe  walls  of  the  fort  were  a  dozen  feet  or  so 
in  height,  with  eaves  projecting  outward,  the  better  to 
prevent  scaling  by  a  possible  enemy.  Within  these  walls 
was  a  row  of  buildings  in  which  were  the  officers  of  the 
alcalde,  the  subprefect,  the  jefe-politico  and  other  civil 
officers  of  the  pueblo.  Here  also  were  the  quarters  of 
Morando's  men.  The  Captain  himself  had  a  reception 
room  in  one  corner  of  an  edifice  facing  the  street.  A 
motley  gathering  was  in  this  room,  ajso  clustered 
around  the  door  as  the  Sefiora  Valentino  drew  rein.  Her 
mounted  escort  had  drawn  up  on  either  side  of  her  in 
orderly  lines,  each  peon  so  tightening  his  bridle  that  the 
horses  walked  in  perfect  step. 

Captain  Morando,  the  comandante,  pushed  his  way 
through  the  crowd  to  the  lady's  side.  "Thrice  glad  am 
I  to  see  you,  amiga  mia.  Will  you  not  alight  and  rest 
awhile?" 

"Thank  you,  Captain." 

He  released  her  foot  from  the  stirrup  and  assisted 
her  to  the  ground. 

"My  poor  place  shines  like  the  morning  in  answer  to 
your  presence,  sefiora." 

She  smiled  on  him  and  looked  about  over  the  waiting 
crowd.  "Why  so  many  sad  faces  here,  Captain?" 


300     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"These  friends  mourn  relatives  who  fell  in  the  recent 
contest  with  Yoscolo.  To-day  the  Department,  through 
me,  considers  the  demands  for  pensions." 

"Then  I  interrupt." 

"Indeed  not,  my  friend.  This  reception  room  meets 
never  a  guest  more  welcome  than  Senora  Valentino." 

"But  these  sad  ones  ?  You  must  not  neglect  them  for 
my  sake." 

"I  shall  not  forget  you,  nor  neglect  them.  Besides, 
my  work  with  the  pensioners  has  about  concluded." 

The  peonas  had  nearly  all  dried  their  tears,  had 
gathered  their  restless  pocos  nines  together  and  were 
preparing  to  depart,  with  many  blessings  murmured  on 
the  "very  good  and  very  handsome  comandante." 

The  seiiora  seated  near  the  Captain  was  greatly  in 
terested  in  the  scene.  "Their  praises  for  you,  senor, 
are  fervent,  if  not  loud,"  she  remarked. 

Soon  the  man  and  woman  were  alone  in  the  reception 
room.  She  regarded  him  gravely.  He  started  from  a 
revery  and  caught  her  look.  He  flushed.  She  laughed 
a  little. 

"Well,  Captain,  I  have  done  as  you  requested." 

"What?" 

"I  have  seen  the  Senorita  Mendoza  and  have  told  her 
for  you  that "  She  paused. 

He  waited  for  her  to  continue. 

"I  must  say  I  do  not  quite  understand  the  girl, 
charming,  indeed,  as  she  is." 

"How  so,  seiiora?" 

"O,  friend  of  my  heart,  I  would  spare  you  pain." 

"Tell  me  everything,  senora." 


ALMOST—  301 

"O,  Don  Alfredo,  everything?  My  heart  fails  me. 
How  can  I  wound  you?" 

"Do  not  fear  for  me,  gentle  one.  Let  me  know  the 
truth.  Please  go  on." 

"Well — if  I  must.  I  made  occasion  to  do  your  bid 
ding  by  visiting  the  Mendoza  house,  ostensibly  to  ex 
press  to  the  host  of  the  great  baile  at  Mission  San  Jose 
my  appreciation  of  that  event.  The  senor  was  away, 
but  his  daughter  received  me.  This  was  just  the  oppor 
tunity  I  would  have  wished  for.  Nothing  could  have 
been  better  for  our  purpose,  Don  Alfredo." 

He  bowed  in  recognition  of  the  fact. 

"We  passed  bits  of  conversation  from  one  to  the 
other  on  chance  topics.  The  young  lady  was  delightful. 
As  we  sat  in  the- cool  drawing  room  sipping  tea  and  nib 
bling  dulces  I  thought  continually  of  you,  my  friend. 
Small  wonder,  truly,  that  you  wished  to  wed  this  beau 
tiful  and  talented  young  woman.  Small  wonder,  again, 
that  the  swains  of  the  valley  lay  their  hearts  before  her, 
as  she  beckons." 

The  soldier's  face  grew  gloomy. 

"When  our  time  had  in  a  measure  sped  I  introduced 
the  subject  on  which  you  wished  me  to  speak  with  her." 

"How  did  she  receive  it?" 

"I  am  puzzled  to  know  how  to  explain.  It  is  but  a 
step,  often,  from  joy  to  sorrow;  at  times,  discourtesy 
seems  waiting  on  the  threshold  of  courtesy.  Well, 
enough  to  say  that  our  pleasant  relations  underwent  a 
change  most  unaccountable.  The  Dona  Carmelita 
grew  cold  and  drew  within  herself.  Try  as  I  might  I 
could  not  bring  back  the  former  cordiality.  In  the 


302     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

course  of  the  conversation  I  said:  'Senorita,  Captain 
Morando  loves  you  and  you  only.'  She  replied :  'Sefiora 
Valentino,  I  cannot  listen  to  you ;  even  though  you  are 
a  guest  in  this  house  I  cannot.' 

"We  parleyed  further.  She  was  obdurate.  She  tried 
to  cut  me  short  with  the  words :  'I  request  that  this  con 
versation  cease  and  that  you  do  not  again  mention  to 
me  the  name  of  Captain  Morando.' 

"Yet  still  did  I  refuse  to  accept  her  dismissal  of  the 
subject.  You  see,  my  one-time  knight,  I  was  deter 
mined  to  fulfill  your  wishes,  no  matter  what  came." 

She  lowered  her  eyes  with  a  tender  little  sigh,  but 
went  on  hastily.  "I  continued  to  speak  of  you  and  of 
your  love  for  her.  She  almost  flung  at  me:  'Captain 
Morando  is  nothing  to  me,  nor  can  he  ever  be.  I  would 
not  wish  it  otherwise.' 

"Then  I  concluded :  'At  least  accept  his  word  that  he 
meant  no  harm  by  his  attentions  to  you.'  To  this  she 
gave  no  response. 

"We  were  now  at  the  hacienda  gate.  She  summoned 
the  peon  who  had  my  horse  in  charge.  As  I  mounted 
she  said :  'Remember,  if  you  call  again,  I  shall  give  word 
to  my  maid  to  tell  you  I  am  not  at  home.' ' 

The  young  man  came  to  her  side  and  took  her  hand 
in  both  his.  "Forgive  me,  senora.  Forgive  me,  my  dear 
friend,  the  stupid  selfishness  in  asking  you  to  do  such  an 
errand.  When  I  think  of  your  goodness  to  me  and  of 
my  placid  acceptance  of  it  I  curse  myself  for  a 
brute." 

"You  are  harsh  with  yourself,  Alfredo,"  putting  her 
disengaged  hand  on  his. 


ALMOST—  303 

"No,  senora,  a  thousand  times,  no.  How  can  I  ever 
atone  for  my  thoughtlessness  !" 

The  lustrous  brown  eyes  were  looking  gently  at  him. 
He  gazed  into  their  beautiful  depths.  She  leaned  a 
trifle  nearer. 

He  continued :  "I  have  been  a  cur !  You  have  suffered 
your  life  long.  You  generously  gave  me  the  confidences 
of  your  heart.  I  saw  how  empty  your  years  have  been 
of  the  things  that,  after  all,  really  count  in  this  world ; 
yet  I,  selfish  fool !  could  only  whine  about  my  own  loss." 

"Don't,  don't,  Alfredo.  You  must  not  say  such 
words." 

"Dear  amiga,  you  are  too  forgetful  of  yourself,  al 
ways  thinking  of  the  good  you  may  do  others.  You 
have  a  claim  on  me,  a  strong  claim,  which  I  shall  always 
remember;  for,  no  matter  how  unwitting  on  my  part, 
unhappiness  came  to  you  years  ago,  and  that  unhappi- 
ness  still  persists.  Added  to  this,  I  have  been  the  direct 
cause  of  your  losing  your  friend,  the  Dona  Carmelita. 
I  wish  I  could  make  compensation." 

The  woman's  eyes  drooped.  Her  hands  fell  to  her 
side. 

"The  past  is  gone — gone  the  way  of  all  past  things," 
she  said,  very  slowly. 

"But  the  hurt  continues,"  he  returned. 

"You  certainly  cannot  blame  yourself  for  that." 

He  dropped  on  his  knees  beside  her.  "My  dear 
senora,  my  true  friend,  ask  what  you  will  of  me,  and  if 
I  can  accomplish  it,  it  shall  be  yours.  I  would  do  any 
thing  to  be  of  service  to  you." 

She  raised  her  eyes  and  put  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 


304     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Alfredo,  how  could  you  retrieve  a  broken  life?  Why, 
I  envy  the  love  of  the  peonas  for  their  husbands  who  fell 
by  your  side  at  La  Cuesta  de  los  Gatos.  Though  bereft 
their  love  lives  on.  Their  heart  is  not  empty,  as  is  mine 
— as  is  mine.  Ah,  me!" 

"Dona  Silvia,  the  way  of  love  should  not  be  difficult 
to  one  of  your  gentle  spirit.  Surely,  you  will  find  it, 
with  all  the  joys  bordering  thereon." 

Her  eyebrows  lifted  almost  imperceptibly.  She  moved 
a  little  away. 

"Forgive  me,"  he  said  anxiously,  noting  the  move 
ment.  "I  have  entered  forbidden  ground." 

"No,  no,  dear  Alfredo.  For  you  it  is  not  forbidden 
ground.  There  is  not  a  recess  within  my  heart  where 
you  might  not  enter." 

"You  are  more  than  kind,  my  good  friend." 

"Friend !  Captain,"  showing  some  impatience, 
"friend !  Good  friend !"  She  tried  to  hide  the  sarcasm 
in  her  tone  by  an  unusually  alluring  smile.  "I  am  but 
one  of  your  many,  many  good  friends.  Is  it  not  so?" 
her  voice  sounding  hard  in  spite  of  herself.  "O,  well,  I 
must  be  content  with  whatever  the  gods  see  fit  to  be 
stow." 

"Sefiora,  you  are  not  merely  one  of  many.  You  are 
my  most  loyal,  my  warmest,  my  ever-remaining,  ever- 
to-be-cherished,  never-to-be-forgotten "  He  paused, 

overcome  by  his  own  vehemence. 

"You  would  scale  barbed  walls  to  carry  away  the 
senorita  of  the  window  pane,"  leaning  wearily  on  her 
arm. 

"Yes,  dear  Silvia,  I  would  scale  those  walls,"  he  went 


ALMOST—  305 

on,  passionately.  "I  would  scale  them  and  bear  you 
away,"  taking  both  her  hands.  Her  warm  breath  was 

against  his  cheek.  "I  would — I  would "  His  voice 

choked. 

" — Even  sing  love  songs  outside  the  window,  to  the 
accompaniment  of  the  guitar.  O,  Alfredo !" 

In  space  of  time  hardly  more  than  an  instant  he  saw 
the  Sefiorita  Carmelita's  eyes  flash  behind  the  barred 
window ;  heard  her  gay  banter  at  the  house  party ;  felt 
her  soft  hand  in  his  as  he  had  spoken  love  to  her  at  the 
baile. 

Very  gently  he  moved  away  from  the  senora.  Slowly 
he  arose  to  his  feet.  The  woman  quickly  realized  the 
effect  of  her  ill-chosen  words.  She  arose  also  and  stood 
leaning  on  the  back  of  her  chair.  For  a  moment  they 
looked  at  each  other.  She  was  the  first  to  speak,  a 
queer  little  smile  stealing  over  her  face. 

"Well,  Captain  Morando,  I  have  made  report  to 
you,"  the  smile  vanishing.  "I  must  now — journey 
homeward." 

He  escorted  the  senora  to  her  horse.  Assisting  her 
to  mount  he  kissed  her  hand  in  parting  salute. 

She  rode  leisurely  out  of  the  pueblo,  pleasantly  ex 
changing  greetings  with  acquaintances  along  the  way. 
Once  on  the  plains,  however,  she. lashed  her  horse  until 
the  beast  plunged  and  kicked  in  fury.  She  quelled  him 
with  bit  and  word,  then  rode  at  break-neck  speed  until 
he  was  winded. 

The  peon  guard  followed  in  wonderment. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
PEDRO  ZELAYA  BRINGS  IMPORTANT  NEWS 

with  the  green  boughs,  Anselmo.  Now,  you, 
Francisco,  the  turpentine  in  plenty.  Pronto ! 
hombre.  Pronto !  Hasten !  Diablo !" 

The  wind  from  the  Yerba  Buena  side  blew  more  and 
more  strongly,  and  finally  stiffened  to  a  quarter  gale. 

"It  is  useless,  Seiior  Zelaya,"  said  the  peon  Anselmo. 
"The  breeze  from  the  bay  so  fans  the  blaze  that  there 
is  no  smoke  at  all,  but  all  flame." 

Don  Pedro  Zelaya  and  his  peons  were  on  a  pinnacle 
of  one  of  the  high  hills  which  skirt  the  eastern  side  of 
San  Francisco  harbor.  Away  at  the  south  somewhere 
was  the  hacienda  of  Mendoza.  On  the  roof  of  Men- 
doza's  hacienda  house  by  night  and  by  day  watchers 
scanned  the  north  horizon  for  fire  or  smoke  signals 
telling  that  the  British  fleet  had  sailed,  and  announcing, 
in  the  devious  ways  known  to  such  signal-makers,  the 
direction  the  ships  had  taken,  together  with  other  apt 
information. 

"Caramba !  Caramba !"  stormed  little  Zelaya.  "Bring 
more  green  leaves.  Give  over  using  that  turpentine 
now.  Perhaps  we'll  get  some  smoke  after  all." 

The  keen  air  breathed  through  the  heaping  leaves 
with  a  bellowslike  sound.  The  fierce  heat  exuded  the  oil 
from  the  fiber  and  the  flames  roared  with  added  vigor. 

306 


IMPORTANT  NEWS  307 

"Bring  water !"  commanded  Zelaya.  "We  must  have 
a  signal-smoke  here,  or  it  means  a  wild  dash  on  horse 
back  to  Mission  San  Jose.  Bring  water,  I  say." 

"There  is  no  water  within  a  league,  Senor  Zelaya. 
Besides,  the  high  wind  would  blow  the  smoke  along  the 
mountain  top,  not  letting  it  form  a  column  that  would 
reach  upward." 

The  excitable  Zelaya  ran  to  his  horse  tied  to  some 
brush  near  by.  Taking  his  canteen  from  the  saddle  he 
poured  the  contents,  a  quart  or  so  of  water,  on  the 
blazing  fire.  There  was  a  splutter,  a  sizzle,  and  the 
leaves  burned  as  furiously  as  before. 

The  sun  was  just  peeping  over  the  eastern  horizon. 
Zelaya  looked  intently,  listening  expectantly.  When 
the  wind  lulled  for  a  moment  there  came  swelling  over 
the  hills  the  reenforced  bellowings  from  tens  of  thou 
sands  of  cattle  throats. 

"Ah !  the  herds  are  at  last  coming  in  from  the  San 
Joaquin  bottoms.  Well,  we  have  other  fish  to  fry  be 
sides  thinking  of  that.  Say!  you,  Anselmo,  and  you, 
Francisco,  are  you  sure  you  caught  all  the  signals 
right?  No  danger  of  mistake?  Are  you  sure?" 

The  small  black  eyes  of  the  peons  glittered.  "We 
wish  we  were  as  sure  of  heaven,  Sefior  Zelaya.  Our 
men  saw  the  signal  fire  on  the  high  mountains  east  of 
San  Jose  last  night ;  saw  the  answer  on  Tamalpais. 
This  morning  at  daybreak  they  saw  the  great  white 
birds  swim  out  in  the  direction  of  the  south  wind.  Our 
young  master,  Roberto  Morago,  said  that  only  cannon 
and  heaps  of  cannon  balls  were  on  the  decks.  He  saw 
it  through  his  field  glass  from  his  station  on  the  flank 


308     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

of  Mount  Diablo.  We  have  brought  you  his  word, 
Senor  Zelaja,  and  our  telling  is  true.  It's  no  use;  we 
cannot  send  a  smoke  signal  in  this  wind." 

Zelaya  was  already  astride  his  mount.  "It  means  a 
couple  of  hours'  delay,"  he  muttered,  "a  couple  of  hours 
which  we  can  in  no  way  afford." 

He  rode  his  horse  furiously.  The  wind  sang  in  his 
ears  as  he  swept  along.  His  face  was  set  and  hard,  his 
eyes  narrowing  to  burning  sparks. 

"So,  the  English  ships  have  sailed  southward,  with 
decks  cleared  for  action !"  he  thought.  "Word  must  be 
given  to  Mendoza  and  the  American  commodore  at 
once."  Then  with  an  oath:  "What  misfortune  this 
strong  wind  was  blowing  on  this  of  all  mornings !  Well, 
I'll  get  to  Mission  San  Jose  with  the  news  if  my  horse 
holds  out !  or,"  he  half  laughed,  "if  he  fails,  I'll  lasso  a 
bull  and  press  him  into  service." 

The  horseman  slipped  down  the  steep  grades,  passed 
the  rancho  of  his  neighbor,  Senor  Peralta ;  rode  through 
the  foothills  comprising  part  of  the  grant  of  Don  Luis 
Castro,  and  into  the  confines  of  his  own  property,  the 
Rancho  Arroyo  San  Lorenzo.  Here  he  reined  in  for  a 
moment,  and  allowed  the  animal  to  lope,  an  easy  canter 
much  affected  in  early-California  days. 

"Now,  for  Arroyo  Seco,  Mendoza's  outpost!  I'll 
find  a  fresh  horse  there  in  his  corrals." 

He  spurred  his  horse  which  dashed  along  the  foothills 
toward  Mission  San  Jose.  The  bellowing  of  the  return 
ing  cattle  became  plainer  and  plainer.  The  vanguard 
of  the  herds  was  already  dotting  the  higher  levels  above 
him. 


IMPORTANT  NEWS  309 

"Caramba !  I'm  none  too  far  away,  if  I  wish  to  avoid 
being  caught  in  the  press." 

With  word  and  quirt  and  spur  he  urged  his  horse  for 
ward.  Mile  after  mile  sped  past. 

"You,  poor  fellow,  are  pretty  well  done,"  to  his 
animal  as  it  labored  along.  "Well,  I  see  Mendoza's 
corrals  ahead.  I'll  leave  you  there  in  good  hands,  and 
get  my  saddle  on  another  racer." 

Many  cattle  and  horses  in  the  marshes  adjacent  on 
the  bay  had  not  been  rounded  up  in  the  spring  when 
the  droves  had  been  formed  for  the  San  Joaquin.  They 
had  swum  across  the  intervening  sloughs  to  the  salt- 
grass  pastures  where  fodder  was  more  plentiful.  After 
the  rains  had  come  these  animals  had  returned  to  the 
valley  lands  and  had  grown  fat. 

Each  stallion  is  a  general  having  under  him  his  lieu 
tenants  who,  with  him,  form  a  guard  for  the  }  'otection 
of  the  mothers  and  foals  of  the  family.  As  it  is  with 
the  horse  so  is  it  with  the  cattle.  The  cows  and  calves 
follow  the  mighty  leaders  that  afford  them  safety. 

Thus,  from  the  valley  came  hundreds  of  horses  and 
cattle  to  meet  the  homecomers.  They  had  scented  their 
fellows  from  afar,  and  flew  madly  to  the  foothills,  to  do 
them  battle.  The  vaqueros  were  miles  away,  in  the  rear 
of  the  swarming,  home-coming  herds.  In  time  they 
would  make  peace  by  clubbing  the  fighting  leaders  over 
nose  or  horn  with  their  heavy  whip-stocks. 

Zelaya  was  within  half  a  mile  of  the  Mendoza  corral 
when  a  drove  of  fifty  or  more  horses,  led  by  a  splendid 
dapple-gray  stallion,  came  thundering  from  a  deep  hol 
low  directly  in  front  of  him.  The  leader  disdained 


310     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOS6 

battle  with  a  single  stranger  and  rushed  by  like  the 
wind.  Don  Pedro  turned  rein  and  ran  with  the  drove 
for  safety.  Little  by  little  he  lessened  speed ;  then,  as 
the  way  opened,  he  left  the  company  forced  on  him 
and  again  turned  toward  the  Mendoza  corrals. 

A  hundred  paces  to  the  side  a  herd  of  cattle,  led  by 
an  immense  bull,  was  charging  in  the  foothills.  The 
leader  saw  the  horseman  and  made  for  him  viciously. 
The  Spaniard  waved  his  reata  and  shouted,  "Hoop-la ! 
Hoop-la !"  after  the  manner  of  the  vaquero.  The  herd 
paused,  snorted ;  then,  with  head  and  tail  up,  looked  on 
while  their  protector  fought  the  enemy. 

The  bull  lowered  its  head  and  rushed  at  him,  roaring 
a  tremendous  bass  defiance.  The  Spaniard  swung  his 
horse  to  one  side,  and  the  beast  stumbled  past  him. 
Again  and  again  was  this  repeated.  Finally,  the  horse 
stepped  ^ito  a  hole  and  fell.  The  rider  came  to  the 
ground  ,.11  his  feet,  moved  quickly  aside,  in  time  to  avoid 
a  furious  rush  from  the  tormentor.  As  the  bull  stopped 
in  preparation  for  another  attack  Don  Pedro  sprang 
on  its  back. 

"I  have  for  myself  a  merienda,"  he  thought,  grimly, 
remembering  the  day  when  he  had  ridden  the  bull  at  the 
Calaveras  picnic  ground. 

"Come,  come,  run  to  the  corral,  my  lordly  beast !" 

The  animal  ran  around  and  around  in  a  circle,  roar 
ing  terrifically. 

"Carrajo!  Carrajo!  'twill  not  do,"  called  the  rider. 
"I  must  make  the  corral.  Go,  now,  you  son  of  an  imp ! 
Run  as  I  direct !" 

Climbing  out  well  on  the  shoulders  he  managed  to 


IMPORTANT  NEWS  311 

reach  the  beast's  nose  with  his  spur.  First  kicking  it 
on  one  side  of  the  muzzle,  then  on  the  other,  he  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  it  started  toward  the  corral. 

"Grande !  Grande  !"  he  shouted.  "You  make  not  badly 
the  mount.  Hoop-la !  Hoop-la !  Pronto !  Pronto !" 

The  bull  ran  under  some  trees,  endeavoring  to  free 
itself  from  the  incumbrance.  Zelaya  drew  himself  up 
into  the  branches. 

"It  is  again  the  merienda,  as  I  have  said.  Now,  fare 
well,  toro  mio,  I  go  to  the  corral  and  stables  for  a  mount 
superior  even  to  you." 

The  bull  hurried  back  to  his  bellowing  herd,  and  soon 
together  they  were  tearing  onward  to  the  hills,  to  fight 
the  myriad  homecomers. 

"A  thousand  and  one  devils !  A  thousand  and  one 
devils !"  exclaimed  Zelaya  a  few  moments  later.  The 
corrals  and  stables  were  empty.  The  peon  cots  were 
vacant.  Evidently,  Mendoza  had  sent  all  available 
horses  and  men  to  the  San  Joaquin  to  bring  home  his 
grazing  stock. 

The  little  man  did  not  hesitate.  Off  came  his  em 
broidered  jacket,  his  outer,  as  well  as  his  inner,  shirt, 
then  his  long  riding  boots.  He  tossed  his  sombrero, 
heavy  with  gold,  to  one  side. 

"Behold!  'twould  not  be  so  bad,  if  I  only  had  my 
running  shoes." 

The  morning  sun  fell  on  his  muscular  torso,  the  run 
ner's  flat  abdomen  and  well-sinewed  limbs  discernible 
through  the  knee-pants  and  leggings. 

For  an  instant  he  pulled  his  short  mustachios  sav 
agely.  "I  may  meet  more  bulls  and  their  families,  and 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

I  have  now  no  spurs,"  glancing  at  his  discarded  boots. 
"Well,  if  a  bull  chases  me  toward  Mission  San  Jose  I 
shall  reach  my  goal  all  the  quicker." 

It  was  three  leagues  good,  as  the  bird  flies,  to  the 
Mendoza  hacienda  house,  at  the  Mission.  Don  Pedro 
set  off  across  country  at  a  long,  swinging  gait  which 
ate  the  miles  like  fire.  For  nearly  a  league  he  ran  along 
cattle  paths  in  the  tall  oats  and  drying  mustard.  Then 
he  struck  the  main-traveled  road.  Here  he  rested  for 
a  moment. 

"Diablo !"  standing  first  on  one  foot,  then  on  the 
other.  "That  dried  grass  has  the  edge  of  a  knife !" 

The  roaring  of  cattle  and  the  raucous  threatening 
of  a  stallion  sent  him  flying  along  instantly. 

"A  pest  on  it !  I  prefer  the  sharp  grass  edge  to  these 
infernal  stones,"  the  ragged  pebbles  in  the  road  bruising 
and  tearing  his  feet,  while  the  dry  grass  had  cut  cleanly. 
Still  he  did  not  waver.  Bright  red  spots  showed  on  his 
cheeks ;  his  breath  came  in  quick  gasps,  but  he  did  not 
slacken  the  wonderful  pace  he  had  set  for  himself. 

Once  a  bull  compelled  him  to  climb  a  tree,  and  once 
he  hid  under  a  bank  while  a  stallion  led  his  squadron 
past.  "I  take  the  rest  whether  or  no  I  need  it,"  was 
his  laconic  thought  at  these  times. 

Finally  he  came  in  sight  of  the  towers  of  Mendoza's 
house.  It  was  yet  a  league  away,  and  more.  Don 
Pedro  tightened  his  belt,  looked  at  his  bleeding  feet, 
then  at  the  mansion  gleaming  white  in  the  sun.  He 
surveyed  the  landscape  in  search  of  a  horseman,  but  in 
vain. 

He  bathed  his  feet  in  a  streamlet,  then  darted  along 


IMPORTANT  NEWS  313 

the  rough  road  at  a  speed  that  might,  indeed,  be  fitly 
described  as  only  less  than  that  of  a  fast-galloping 

horse. 

####### 

"Commodore  Billings,  float  the  stars  and  stripes  over 
Monterey  before  another  sun  goes  out!" 

In  the  Administrator's  sitting  room  were  gathered 
Billings,  Hamilton,  O'Donnell,  and  a  score  of  land 
barons  of  the  valley. 

The  American's  mouth  shut  in  a  straight  line.  "You 
Spaniards,  save  a  handful,  are  clamoring  for  English 
rule.  Still,  Senor  Mendoza,  you  ask  me  to  invest  the 
capital  of  this  province  with  my  ships.  To  what  end?" 

"To  afford  our  California  opportunity  to  appeal 
from  her  inconsiderate  self  to  her  wiser  self." 

"Mendoza,  I  represent  the  United  States.  My  office 
is  to  conserve,  or  advance,  her  interests." 

"Senor  Commodore,  California  is  the  key  to  the  vast 
region  north  and  east.  With  this  province  goes  mastery 
of  the  Pacific  from  the  Isthmus  to  the  ice.  No  small  ad 
dition  to  the  United  States  of  America." 

"California,  in  her  wiser  thought,  you  intimate,  would 
elect  to  become  a  province  under  my  government.  I  so 
understand  you,  senor." 

The  Administrator  nodded  affirmatively. 

"I  am,  then,  to  hold  your  capital  pending  this  ex 
pected  change  of  attitude?" 

Again  the  affirmation  from  Mendoza. 

"Very  well,  our  Senor  Hacendado,  suppose  the  in 
evitable  finds  resting  place  on  the  other  horn  of  this 
dilemma,  and  your  province  elects  to  become  British?" 


314     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Several  of  the  men  were  on  their  feet,  speaking  ex 
citedly. 

"Senor  Billings,  not  one  chance  in  ten  of  such  an  out 
come,"  exclaimed  Fulgencio  Higuera.  "Geographically 
we  belong  to  the  United  States.  In  politics  we  are  one 
with  you.  Give  us  time  to  think  and  all  of  us  will  say 
aye  to  this." 

Diego  Valencia  and  others  seconded  him. 

"I  voted  in  haste  for  English  rule,"  said  Luis  Castro. 
"My  preference  is  for  your  country,  Senor  Commo 
dore." 

"And  I!    And  I!"  from  a  dozen  others. 

Billings  shrugged.  "Your  California  Baja  is  solid 
for  England." 

"I  have  letters  here  from  Senor  Carillo,  the  Picos, 
and  others  prominent  there,  stating  that  these  men  will 
accept  what  is  wisest  for  the  province,"  replied  Men- 
doza. 

"Well  said !  Well  said !"  broke  in  the  heavy  voice  of 
O'Donnell. 

Billings  looked  around  the  room  from  one  face  to 
another.  Finally,  his  eyes  rested  on  Mendoza.  "But 
there  is  a  possibility  if  I  take  your  capital  that  I  may 
be  asked  to  give  it  over  to  the  English  admiral.  Is  that 
not  true?  Your  people,  after  all,  may  vote  to  become 
a  British  dependency,"  giving  the  table  beside  him  a 
resounding  blow  with  his  clenched  hand. 

"A  bare  possibility — nothing  more,"  said  Mendoza, 
quietly. 

"In  which  case  I  should  have  my  trouble  for  my 
pains,"  asserted  the  American. 


IMPORTANT  NEWS  315 

"You  would,  then,  have  aided  a  sovereign  people  to 
exercise  their  right  of  franchise.  Surely,  your  govern 
ment  would  uphold  you  in  that.  Besides,  the  chance  is 
ten  to  one — yes,  a  hundred  to  one — that  your  flag  will 
continue  flying  over  the  province,"  argued  the  Admin 
istrator. 

Billings's  heavy  mustachios  raised  along  his  face  in  a 
peculiar  smile.  His  bushy  eyebrows  were  elevated.  In 
a  moment  his  features  fell  into  their  usual  mold. 

"If  I  do  not  take  Monterey,  what  then?" 

"Then  comes  England,"  replied  Mendoza,  his  voice 
low  and  even,  "and  at  the  present — the  present,  mind 
you,  I  say — an  apparent  majority  of  our  people  would 
welcome  her  coming.  If  she  comes,  she  will  stay." 
He  looked  steadily  at  the  other.  "Senor  the  Commo 
dore,  it  may  be  now  or  never  for  the  Americans." 

There  was  a  rush  of  feet  in  the  corridor,  a  clatter  of 
excited  native  voices,  angry  expostulations,  and  then 
there  burst  into  the  room  a  figure  which  startled  the 
grave  assemblage  nearly  out  of  its  senses.  A  man  naked 
to  the  waist,  his  feet  cut  and  bleeding,  his  face  streaked 
with  dust  and  perspiration.  He  was  scarcely  able  to 
stand. 

"Dios!"  exclaimed  Mendoza.  "It's  Senor  Zelaya. 
What  has  happened?" 

The  perspiring,  fainting  man  partially  steadied  him 
self.  "The  English  fleet  sailed — this  morning — at 
daybreak — toward  the  south — decks  cleared  for 

action ;  He  collapsed  and  would  have  fallen  had 

not  Mendoza  caught  him. 

Zelaya  soon  recovered.    Quickly  he  told  his  story. 


316     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"By  thunder !  The  English  fleet  stripped  for  battle ! 
Hurrying  to  Monterey !  I'll  shoot  their  infernal  rud 
ders  off !"  cried  the  Commodore. 

Hamilton,  unsheathing  his  sword,  bounded  to  the  side 
of  his  superior. 

Billings's  blade  gave  answering  flash. 

Excited  voices  hushed  under  the  swish  of  steel. 

The  officers  and  Mendoza  strode  from  the  room. 

O'Donnell  was  already  at  his  horse's  side. 

"On,  for  Half  Moon  Bay !  You,  O'Donnell,  lead  the 
way!"  shouted  Billings. 

"Faith!  Commodore,  I'm  in  for  the  race,  and  it's 
bad  luck  catch  the  hindmost!"  as  O'Donnell  swung  to 
the  saddle. 

Tomaso  and  his  peons,  signaled  by  Mendoza,  came 
hurrying  with  horses. 

"I  too  will  ride  with  the  Commodore  Americano," 
called  Zelaya,  forgetful  of  his  fatigue. 

"Not  so,  Pedro,"  from  Mendoza.  "A  bed  and  a  sur 
geon  for  thee." 

The  Administrator  mounted  his  prized  racer,  Mer- 
curio.  He  waved  his  hand.  Instantly,  Tomaso  and  his 
fighting  peons  reined  their  horses  behind  him  in  double 
file.  Captain  Hamilton  stood  with  toe  in  stirrup,  look 
ing  ruefully  enough  at  the  prospect  of  a  jolting  ride 
back  to  Half  Moon  Bay. 

"Fall  in,  Captain !"  called  Billings. 

In  a  moment  the  Captain  was  racing  along  the  road, 
not  second  to  many  in  the  run. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
THE  NEXT  DAY 

<CTT'S  ingratitude,  I  say,  ingratitude  worthy  of  a — 

A    Catalonian,"  puffed  Colonel  Barcelo,  striding  up 

and  down  the  veranda  on  the  second  story  of  his  house. 

"But,  dear  husband,  Captain  Morando  is  not  a  Cata 
lonian.  He  is  Castilian,  native  of  Madrid,  just  the  same 
as  we  are." 

The  Colonel  paused  in  his  walk  and  glared  at  his  wife. 
"All  the  worse  for  him !  All  the  worse  for  him !"  he 
roared.  "He  has  birth  and  training  of  a  lion  and  the 
instincts  of  a — a "  Breath  failed  him. 

"O,  dear  husband !"  in  expostulation. 

"Dear  husband !  Dear  husband !"  mockingly.     "This 

is  no  time "     Sufficient  breath  had  not  returned  to 

him  to  complete  his  thought. 

"O,  Crisostimo!  Crisostimo !" 

"Crisostimo  !  Crisostimo  !"  again  mocking  her.  "I've 
always  said,  Sefiora  Barcelo,  that  you  have  no  pride, 
and  that  you  talk  too  much." 

"O,  my  husband,  you  don't  love  me  any  more.  How 
I  wish  I  had  never  come  to  California !" 

"So  do  I,"  growled  the  husband. 

"How  dare  you !  How  dare  you !"  bridled  the  little 
woman.  "I  believe,  now,  those  stories  about  your  drink 
ing  absinthe  and  gambling  in  Paris." 

317 


318     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Clarinda,  love,  I  mean  I  wish  we  had  never  come  to 
California,  but  that  we  had  remained  in  Europe." 

"Well,  that  sounds  different." 

"As  for  this  Morando,  why,  confound  those  Cat- 
Ionian  instincts  in  him !" 

"But  he  isn't  a  Catalonian." 

"I  nearly  shot  a  villainous  Catalan  major  once  for 
less  than  what  Morando  has  done,"  he  blustered,  ignor 
ing  his  wife's  remark. 

"What  has  Captain  Morando  done?  I'm  sure  he 
is  a  very  good  man,  and  everyone  thinks  him  hand 
some." 

"Handsome !"  straightening  his  shoulders  and  looking 
down  at  his  ample  proportions.  "Handsome!  Why, 
once  at  a  court  ball  where  I  was  present  half  a  dozen 
princesses " 

"Were  present  also,  I  presume,"  snappingly  inter 
rupted  his  wife.  "Well,  tell  me  about  Morando." 

"Clarinda,  my  dear,"  sententiously,  "I've  labored  for 
position  and  power,  not  for  my  own  sake,  but  that  you 
should  receive  what  is  worthy  of  you.  That  has  been 
my  great  ambition,"  pompously. 

"How  exceedingly  nice  of  you!"  half  sarcastically 
from  the  senora,  not  yet  quite  mollified  after  her  hus 
band's  reference  to  the  princesses. 

"I  had  climbed  to  a  place  where  high  honor  was 
almost  mine.  Mexico  goes  out  of  California  and  Eng 
land  comes  in.  I  had  aimed  to  gain  for  myself  gover 
norship  of  the  province,  as  well  as  the  commandership- 
in-chief  of  all  the  land  forces.  Under  England  such  a 
position  should  satisfy  anyone.  It  would  have  satisfied 


THE  NEXT  DAY 

me — at  least,  for  the  present;  that  is,  my  love,  when 
you  would  be  at  my  side  sharing  the  honors." 

"Where  else  would  I  be  ?"  her  wide-open  eyes  darken 
ing  a  little. 

"Nowhere  else;  nowhere  else,  my  love — not  with  my 
consent." 

"Nor  mine  either,"  firmly. 

The  Colonel  floundered  a  moment.  "Where  was  I 
when  interrupted?  O  yes.  At  last  I  had  attained  a 
place  proper  and  fitting  for  me — and  for  you,  too, 
Clarinda.  When  I  say  T  I  mean  you  also." 

"Crisostimo,  why  didn't  you  say  that  at  first?" 

"First !  Say  it  first !  Well,  I  meant  it  first.  Now, 
comes  this  Morando,  this  villainous  Morando " 

"Crisostimo,  he  is  no  such  thing,"  defended  the 
senora  with  indignation. 

"A  man  whom  I  have  often  fed  at  my  own  table " 

"You  never  did  but  once,"  again  interrupting. 
"Other  than  that  he  has  never  eaten  a  bite  in  this  house, 
except  the  coffee  and  cake  sister  Silvia  gave  him  early 
one  morning  when  he  happened  to  be  here." 

"Well,  he  didn't  deserve  even  that." 

Senora  Valentino  came  on  the  veranda.  "Why,  my 
dear  brother,  what  has  happened?  Your  face  is  red 
and  perspiring,  and  you  seem  excited." 

"O,  Silvia,  sweetheart.  Crisostimo  has  been  saying 
mean  things  about  your  friend  Captain  Morando." 

"And  with  reason,"  interjected  Barcelo,  gruffly. 

"How  so  ?"  queried  the  sister. 

"My  confidence  in  this  Morando  has  been  shattered 
to  pieces." 


320     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"And  how?" 

"Just  what  I've  asked  him,"  from  the  Colonel's  wife. 

"I've  just  come  from  an  interview  with  the  English 
consul  here.  Found  him  closeted  with  that  Farquhar- 
son.  Well,  they  told  me  the  English  admiral  is  to  take 
possession  of  Monterey  to-morrow,"  from  Barcelo. 

"Why  should  that  make  you  say  mean  things  about 
the  Captain?"  asked  his  wife. 

He  puffed  his  cheeks  and  rested  his  palms  upon  his 
hips,  in  characteristic  pose.  "This  Morando  has  been 
laying  plans  to  capture  for  himself  the  combined  office 
of  governor  and  commander-in-chief  of  this  province." 

"O,  Crisostimo,"  faintly  from  Senora  Barcelo,  "this 
cannot  be  true.  You  must  be  mistaken." 

"Mistaken,  wife !  Mistaken !  Why,  that  Farquhar- 
son  told  me  himself,  in  cold  blood,  that  Morando  is  to 
be  given  the  office,  and  the  English  consul  seconded  the 
fellow." 

"We  all  thought  so  much  of  the  Captain,"  from  his 
wife,  nearly  overcome. 

"You'll  see  I'm  right  about  the  man,"  a  triumphant 
note  in  the  Colonel's  voice. 

"I  know  you  are  always  right,  Crisostimo,  love." 

"Well,  poor  little  Clarinda,  you  are  not  to  be  gover 
nor's  wife,  nor  yet  wife  of  the  commander-in-chief,"  he 
commiserated. 

"We've  always  made  the  Captain  so  welcome  when  he 
came  here,  and  he  was  such  an  intimate  friend  of  you, 
Silvia.  How  could  he  have  meditated  such  treason 
against  us  all?" 

"Treason  is  just  the  name  for  it.     But — England 


THE  NEXT  DAY 

isn't  here  yet,  and  I've  got  something  to  say  about  her 
coming.  I  am  comandante  of  this  presidio." 

"Why,  of  course !"  his  wife  cheering  up. 

"Yes,  of  course!   Of  course,"  exulted  the  Colonel. 

"Silvia,"  asked  her  sister,  "haven't  you  something 
to  suggest?  People  say  you  are  so  bright." 

Senora  Valentino  turned  away  to  hide  her  smile. 
"The  English  consul  and  Senor  Farquharson  told  you 
that  Captain  Morando  is  to  receive  the  honor  of  which 
you  speak?"  addressing  Barcelo. 

"Well,  it  was  this  way.  You  see,  I  forced  their  hand. 
Just  pinned  them  down;  so,  yes,  or  no,  was  all  they 
could  say,"  with  a  knowing  nod. 

A  servant  entered.  "A  message  from  the  porter,"  she 
announced. 

"Speak!"  commanded  her  master. 

"An  orderly  is  at  the  door  and  requests  to  see  Colonel 
Barcelo." 

"Show  him  up  here." 

The  soldier  entered,  saluted  his  commander  and 
bowed  to  the  women.  "I  have  the  honor  to  say  the  look 
out  at  the  castle  reports  ships  entering  the  outer  har 
bor." 

"Coming,  are  they?  Well,  I  shall  let  them  see  I 
am  a  soldier  and  a  caballero ;  and,  perhaps,"  moving 
his  head  from  side  to  side,  "that  I  am  in  command  of 
the  castle  here.  Clarinda,  where  is  my  new  uniform? 
I  shall  appear  in  that,  as  befits  the  occasion." 

The  Colonel's  wife,  all  a-flutter,  took  his  arm  and 
walked  with  him  down  the  veranda  stairs,  Senora  Valen 
tino  following. 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  atmosphere  of  Monterey  was  tense  with  feeling 
that  morning.  By  some  telepathy  news  of  the  expected 
event  had  spread  out  from  the  capital.  Hamlet,  ha 
cienda,  and  Indian  rancheria  were  alike  agog. 

"Benito,  the  horses,"  called  Barcelo,  coming  to  the 
porte-cochere. 

The  acting  governor  made  an  imposing  figure  in  his 
full  colonel's  regimentals.  He  mounted  his  horse  with 
heavy  dignity.  "Wife,  and  sister  Silvia,  you  ride  with 
me." 

They  rode  along  the  street  to  the  public  square. 
Already  it  bore  resemblance  to  a  fiesta  day.  Sidewalks 
were  lined  with  men  talking  with  lightninglike  rapidity 
between  puffs  of  their  cigaritos.  Peon  and  ranchero 
joined  in  the  talk.  Windows,  verandas,  roofs,  even, 
were  splendid  in  the  vari-colored  dress  and  headgear 
of  the  senora,  senorita  and  peona.  The  whole  world 
of  Monterey  became  akin  under  stress  of  the  greatest 
day  it  had  ever  known. 

The  Colonel  endeavored  to  push  rapidly  through  the 
square  on  his  way  to  the  castle.  He  was  one  of  very 
many  bent  on  the  same  errand.  Carretas  strained  and 
squeaked  in  the  press ;  horses  snorted,  reared,  plunged ; 
pedestrians  risked  life  and  limb  by  darting  hither  and 
thither,  as  opening  presented.  . 

"Out  of  the  way  !  Out  of  the  way !"  Barcelo  shouted 
after  a  little.  "Here  I  am,  only  half  way  to  the  castle. 
Out  of  the  way,  I  say !  The  Governor  and  his  party  are 
coming." 

Two  carretas  going  in  opposite  directions  had  locked 
wheels.  The  postilions  were  hurling  curses  and  threats 


THE  NEXT  DAY  323 

at  each  other;  the  occupants  of  the  vehicles  were 
screaming,  while  numerous  fellow  travelers  were  lavishly 
advising  the  best  manner  of  breaking  up  the  obstruc 
tion. 

"Peste !"  again  from  the  Colonel.  "Give  way !  Give 
way !  Such  drivers  should  be  knocked  senseless  !" 

Peons  now  seized  the  teams  by  the  bridles;  others 
pulled  and  tugged  at  the  carretas  until  each  was  backed 
into  freedom. 

The  stream  of  life  once  more  toiled  onward  toward 
the  castle.  The  Barcelos  were  carried  on  its  bosom. 

The  old  castle  was  built  on  a  bluff  overlooking  Mon 
terey  harbor.  Its  black-mouthed  guns  had  long  gaped 
over  the  quiet  of  the  land-locked  waters,  and  its  but 
tressed  walls  meant  safety  to  padre,  Indian  neophyte, 
and  Spanish  hacendado. 

The  fort  had  been  called  "castle"  by  its  builders  when 
the  flag  of  Spain  waved  over  the  Californias.  Its  ap 
pointments  were  mediaeval.  The  moss-grown  walls  be 
tokened  decay ;  while  the  crumbling  cement  in  the  rock- 
ribbed  abutments  told  the  same  story.  Its  ordnance 
was  ranged  to  protect  harbor  and  approaches.  More 
over,  it  had  protected  them.  Within  the  memory  of  the 
present  generation  two  robber  vessels  had  attempted 
to  force  entrance.  The  cannon  thundered  and  one 
buccaneer  boat  laid  her  bones  at  the  bottom  of  the 
bay;  while  the  other,  white  flag  at  masthead,  sued  for 
mercy. 

A  long  line  of  soldiers  held  the  crowd  at  proper  dis 
tance  from  the  castle.  The  Colonel,  with  his  wife  and 
sister-in-law,  made  his  way  to  the  entrance,  then  along 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

wide  corridor  and  winding  stair  to  the  upper  battle 
ment. 

Silently  they  looked  out  over  the  unheeding  water. 
The  surf  murmured  beneath  them.  The  ocean  nestled 
lazily  against  the  horizon.  Seabirds  floated  aimlessly  in 
the  air ;  or,  with  piercing  cry,  hurtled  downward  for  the 
finny  creatures  below  the  surface  of  the  swell. 

Fishing  smacks,  ever  ready  to  dare  the  roughest 
weather  on  prospect  of  full  nets  and  ready  market,  now, 
careless  of  both,  had  found  sheltered  nooks  whence  to 
await  the  great  happening.  Other  boats  swayed  at  an 
chor  near  the  beach. 

"Major  Silva,"  asked  Barcelo  of  his  second  in  com 
mand,  "is  our  lookout  sure  he  saw  the  fleet?  I  see 
nothing  here." 

"Absolutely  certain,  Colonel.  His  glass  showed  them 
plainly  from  the  tower  nearly  an  hour  ago." 

"Very  well.  See  that  mob  out  there  doesn't  push  in 
any  nearer." 

The  Major  saluted  and  departed. 

"The  whole  countryside  seems  to  have  pulled  itself 
up  by  its  boots  and  jumped  into  town;  but  as  for  that 
much-bragged  of  English  fleet,  there  is  not  a  sign.  I, 
for  one,  don't  believe  it's  coming.  Bah!"  blustered 
Barcelo. 

"Comandante,  the  foreign  consuls  are  at  the  gate," 
announced  an  orderly. 

"Show  them  here." 

The  Comandante  received  them  all  with  words  and 
manner  ceremoniously  polite. 

Glasses   searched  sky  and  water  line,  but  in  vain. 


THE  NEXT  DAY  325 

Colonel  Barcelo  went  from  bastion  to  bastion  calling  to 
his  side  the  gunners  of  each  piece  of  artillery. 

Chance  sentences  which  had  fallen  here  and  there 
now  thickened  into  connected  conversation,  as  little 
groups  were  formed. 

"Your  words  stirred  up  my  brother-in-law  this  morn 
ing,"  Senora  Valentino  said  in  quick  aside  to  Captain 
Farquharson,  who  had  accompanied  the  consuls  to  the 
castle. 

"It  was  the  eleventh  hour.  He  asked  me  a  blunt  ques 
tion  and  I  could  do  nothing  but  give  him  a  plain  answer* 
He  cannot  harm  us." 

"Fairbanks  is  not  keen  on  this  prize,  Captain," 
moving  her  head  thoughtfully. 

Senora  Barcelo  came  to  her  sister's  side.  "Silvia, 
look  through  this  spyglass — over  that  ledge,  then  to 
where  that  thin  scroll  of  fog  dips  down  to  the  water." 

Conversation  ceased,  and  a  dozen  glasses  scanned  the 
spot. 

A  strip  of  white  rose  into  sight,  glanced  in  the  sun, 
darkened,  then  gleamed  like  a  sunflash  on  ice.  To  the 
left  was  another,  then  another.  Suddenly,  four  more 
projected  into  plain  view  on  the  right. 

"The  fleet !    The  fleet !"  chorused  every  side. 

Breezes  of  late  forenoon  freshened  over  the  harbor. 
Headland  and  sky  line  cleared  of  featherv  mist. 

The  seven  ships,  every  sail  set,  hove  into  full  sight. 

Captain  Farquharson,  resting  his  hands  on  a  para 
pet,  scrutinized  eagerly  the  nearing  men-of-war.  His 
wish  framed  a  thought  which  he  believed  Fairbanks's 
coming  vitalized. 


326     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Thirty  years  ago  Spain's  nerveless  hand  fell  from 
the  Californias,  leaving  them  to  Mexico.  Mexico's 
hold,  feeble  always,  year  by  year  had  loosened.  To-day 
would  see  the  end. 

His  daydream  grew. 

The  pushing,  restless  Saxon  of  Atlantic  America, 
after  overflowing  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi,  would 
not  bring  his  civilization  to  the  farthest  West.  Ford 
rivers,  traverse  deserts,  fell  forests  as  he  might,  at  last 
he  would  meet  a  difficulty  he  could  not  surmount,  the 
backfiring  line  of  a  civilization,  virile  as  his  own, 
wrought  by  the  hand  of  his  English  cousin,  and  this  day 
begun  in  the  capital,  Monterey.  Another  empire  was 
about  to  come  under  Great  Britain's  sway. 

"Seilors !"  Comandante  Barcelo's  voice,  low  and 
tense,  broke  the  stillness. 

Farquharson  started  from  his  reverie. 

With  bellying  sails  the  fleet  came  scudding  on,  the 
dark  hulls  scarcely  touching  the  water.  Fairbanks's 
flagship  was  in  the  lead,  her  commander's  pennant 
flinging  from  the  foremast,  the  union  jack  streaming 
above.  Back  from  the  leader,  in  triangular  spread,  as 
wild  fowl  move,  followed  the  others,  three  on  a  side. 

"Senors,  attention !"  again  from  Barcelo.  "Let  us 
have  understanding  right  here  and  now.  You  people 
have  come  here  to-day  to  see  a  province  pass  from  hand 
to  hand,  but,"  pointing  to  the  cannon,  "straight  words 
from  the  throats  of  these  jolly  boys  here  shall  speak 
a  salute  the  aspiring  English  little  expect.  You,  men 
of  the  consulate,  go,  tell  your  nations,  California  scorns 
any  yoke." 


THE  NEXT  DAY  327 

"Nonsense!"  cried  Farquharson.  "Our  ships  will 
batter  this  ramshackle  to  pieces  in  ten  minutes." 

Barcelo  exploded  a  tremendous,  "Huh !"  then  added, 
"No  need  keeps  you  here.  The  casemates  are  at  your 
disposal." 

"Perdition  on  your  folly!"  from  the  angry  English 
man.  "Why,  man,  I've  faced  death  a  score  more  times 
than  you  have  fingers  and  toes,  you  insufferable  ass !" 

"Another  word,  and  I'll  clap  you  in  irons !"  was  Bar- 
celo's  threat.  Turning  to  the  women  he  said,  "It  is 
time  for  the  senoras  to  seek  safety  below." 

"I  shall  remain  here,"  from  Senora  Valentino. 

"I  shall  stay,  also,"  announced  the  Colonel's  wife. 

"Senoras,  I  insist  that  you  go  below — and  at  once! 
Orderly,  take  these  ladies  down  immediately.  As  for 
you,"  turning  to  the  men,  "you  can  suit  yourselves. 
Stay,  if  you  will — if  your  noses  itch  for  powder 
smoke." 

Farquharson  glowered  at  the  Colonel,  but  did  not 
speak.  The  surprised  civilians  hurriedly  grouped  them 
selves  against  a  parapet. 

The  flagship  stood  in  to  the  sheltered  lea  of  the  har 
bor.  As  a  thing  alive  she  ran.  At  each  onward  bound 
she  raised  her  forefoot  clear,  then  plunged  nose-deep 
into  the  churning  spray.  Her  bulging  canvas  gleamed 
against  the  distant  background. 

The  Admiral  and  his  officers  were  on  the  quarterdeck. 
Marines  and  man-o'-war's  men  swarmed  aft. 

"Make  ready !"  called  Barcelo. 

Each  cannoneer  stood  by  the  priming  of  his  piece, 
a  lighted  fuse  spluttering  in  his  hand. 


328     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Fire !"  shouted  the  Colonel,  in  voice  so  carrying  that 
it  reached  the  city  square. 

The  old  cannon  mouths  belched  response. 

Sheets  of  flame  and  smoke  darted  into  the  empty 
air.  Over  town  and  rolling  land  awoke  a  thousand 
echoes. 

The  fort  shivered  to  its  venerable  foundation. 

Across  the  harbor  ricocheted  the  heavy  shots,  dotting 
a  path  straight  to  Fairbanks's  ship.  A  school  of  flying 
fish  these  shots  might  have  been,  moistening  their  fins 
now  and  then,  to  show  that  water  was  their  element. 
They  dropped  below  the  surface,  as  seeking  rest,  short 
of  their  destination  a  hundred  yards. 

"Elevate  the  muzzles  of  the  guns !"  yelled  Barcelo. 
"Quick !  the  levers.  Swing  them  in  place !  Bear  down ! 
Bear  down,  I  tell  you!  Bring  props.  Now,  get  to 
work !  Load  again !" 

Swabbers  labored  with  might  and  main.  Powder 
carriers  came  stumbling  through  the  clinging  smoke. 
Sinewy  arms  strained  under  the  iron  shot. 

Seizing  a  ramrod,  with  his  own  hands  the  sooty  and 
perspiring  Colonel  worked  shoulder  to  shoulder  with 
his  men. 

Signal  flags  arose,  fluttered,  fell,  on  the  Admiral's 
vessel.  Sailors  swarmed  through  the  rigging,  like  flies. 
Sails  shortened,  as  by  magic.  Under  lessened  speed 
she  swung  until  her  length  paralleled  the  water-front. 

"Up  with  the  white  flag,  Colonel  Barcelo!  Hurry! 
Hurry !  Hurry !  For  God's  sake,  give  the  order !" 
cried  Farquharson.  "She's  ready  for  a  broadside." 

As  he  spoke  he  ran  to  the  flagstaff.     The  consuls. 


THE  NEXT  DAY 

storming  and  demanding,  followed  him,  and  made  as  if 
to  lower  the  colors. 

Barcelo  halted  them  with  drawn  pistol.  "Stand 
away !  you  squealing  rats.  I'll  shoot  the  man  who 
touches  a  halyard." 

The  Englishman  stepped  back ;  likewise,  the  others. 

"O,  our  wives  and  children!"  some  one  hoarsely 
cried. 

"Comandante,  for  the  love  of  God,  bethink  your 
self!"  remonstrated  Farquharson. 

"Sight  those  guns !"  persisted  Barcelo  in  a  voice  of 
thunder.  "Now's  your  time!  The  ship's  showing  bot 
tom  like  a  dying  fish.  Hit  the  line,  men,  between  air  and 
water !  Fire !" 

Hill  and  valley  again  boomed  in  angry  refrain.  Over 
the  bay  skimmed  the  shot,  true  poised  for  distance,  but 
scattering  a  course  a  quarter  mile  from  the  flagship's 
side. 

Deck  and  port-hole  of  the  great  vessel  frowned  on 
the  upstart  who  dared  dispute  the  coming  of  the  giant. 

Away  from  the  castle  grounds  in  confusion  tumbled 
the  crowds  that  had  so  gayly  come  to  enjoy  a  holiday. 

Panic-stricken,  Monterey  held  its  breath,  each  instant 
seeing  the  next  instant  terrible  in  red  destruction,  to 
satisfy  the  Briton's  vengeance. 

Still  the  flagship  swung,  the  circle  widening,  her  can 
non  sullenly  silent. 

Helm  hard  down,  she  put  about  till  Monterey  lay 
astern.  Her  sails  unfurled.  Proud  in  the  knowledge 
of  her  unused  strength  she  spurned  castle  and  capital 
and  made  majestically  for  the  open  sea. 


330     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

One  by  one  the  warships  wheeled  and  followed  the 
leader,  in  triangular  lines,  as  before. 

The  sea-breeze  lifted  from  the  castle  the  thick,  black 
smoke-cloud.  The  gunners,  begrimed  and  eager,  held 
by  their  pieces. 

Farquharson,  white  with  suppressed  rage,  paced  the 
battlement. 

The  consuls  were  gathered  in  knots  of  twos  and 
threes. 

Barcelo,  grim  and  aloof,  stood  with  folded  arms  and 
watched  the  departing  fleet  until  the  last  speck  dropped 
from  sight. 

On  the  way  home,  an  hour  later,  Senora  Valentino 
volunteered  to  the  Colonel:  "Well,  the  British  ships 
have  come — and  gone." 

"Yes — and  I  am  still  comandante,"  bluster  reassert 
ing  itself.  Then,  to  his  wife:  "That  peon  valet  laid 
out  my  new  uniform  all  right,  but  he  gave  me  my  old 
sword  belt.  There's  simply  no  depending  on  the  fellow." 


CHAPTER  XXV 
BROWN  TAKES  A  HAND  AT  DIPLOMACY 

"fTlHE    consummate    sentimental    bookworm!      He 

A  hasn't  gumption  enough  to  manage  a  hedge 
school."  Farquharson  threw  himself  into  a  chair  and 
crossed  his  legs,  knocking  over  another  chair  in  the 
process.  It  was  in  the  house  of  the  English  consul. 

"I  haven't  caught  breath  after  the  pandemonium  this 
morning,"  returned  the  consul.  "I'm  glad  to  be  back 
here  alive." 

"See  here,  Twickenham,  you're  a  civilian,  and  have 
no  stomach  for  fighting,  and  not  to  blame  either;  but 
Fairbanks  is  a  fighting  machine.  It's  his  business  to 
shoot  and  be  shot  at.  Sentiment  is  out  of  place  in  a 
commander  of  a  fleet.  A  plague  on  him !  Barcelo  flips 
a  few  birdshot  out  of  a  brace  or  two  of  pill  boxes.  The 
British  nation  bows.  Well,  you  saw  the  farce  this 
morning.  By  Jove!  I'll  have  Fairbanks  before  the 
high  court,  to  answer  for  his  work — or  lack  of  it." 
Farquharson  was  now  nervously  stepping  up  and  down 
the  room. 

"I've  had  my  signal-fires  on  the  hills  since  noon,  ask 
ing  the  Admiral  to  meet  me.  I  want  it  to  be  on  land,  or 
anywhere  off  his  ships.  On  neutral  ground  I'm  free 
to  call  his  conduct  by  the  name  it  deserves.  England 
has  suffered  humiliation  to-day,  and  all  because  of  him ! 
The  dolt!" 

331 


332     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOS£ 

"I  thought  the  ship  would  begin  bombardment  at 
once.  I  don't  mind  confessing  that  'twas  a  dread  time 
as  far  as  I  was  concerned." 

"Begin  bombardment !"  Farquharson  paused  in  his 
walk.  "Why  didn't  he  blast  the  old  fort  into  nothing 
ness,  and  California  would  be  ours.  I'll  wake  him  when 
I  meet  him." 

"Hold  on,  Captain !  If  that  blasting  process  of 
yours  had  gone  on,  we,  personally,  wouldn't  possess 
California,  or  anything  else,  now." 

"O,  Twickenham !  Well,  you're  not  a  fighting  man. 
Besides,  Admiral  Fairbanks  didn't  know  we  were  in 
the  castle.  Furthermore,  there  was  safety  enough  in 
the  subways,  if  we  had  minded  to  go  there." 

Again  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and  began 
fuming  anew.  "Now,  there's  Senora  Valentino!  She 
left  Europe,  and  all  that  this  meant  to  the  woman  she 
is.  She  has  come  to  this  out-of-the-way  place — worked 
hard!  and  conscientiously!  And  for  what?  By  the 
way,  the  senora  should  be  here.  She  sent  word  she's 
heard  something  important.  She's  five  minutes  overdue 
as  it  is." 

"That  clock  is  fast,  Captain." 

Farquharson  looked  at  his  watch.  "Only  two  minutes 
fast."  He  was  on  his  feet  again.  "What  can  have 
kept  her !" 

"O,  sit  down,  Farquharson.  Let's  talk  over  this 
matter." 

"Talk  over  the  matter !  That's  just  the  trouble.  It's 
talk,  talk,  talk! — and  nothing  done!  Just  wait  till  I 
meet  Fairbanks  !  I'll " 


A  HAND  AT  DIPLOMACY 

"Now,  see  here,  Captain  Farquharson.  I'm  only  a 
business  man,  and  I  don't  know  anything  about  fight 
ing,  as  you  intimate.  But,  can't  you  and  the  senora 
bring  Barcelo  to  some  reasonable  attitude  in  this  affair? 
Have  him  and  Admiral  Fairbanks  arrange  an  entente 
cordiale,  so  that  Monterey  will  pass  into  our  hands 
without  a  repetition  of  this  morning's  fusillade." 

The  consul's  wife  ushered  in  Senora  Valentino. 

"Friends,  I  have  received  news  from  Half  Moon  Bay," 
the  senora  announced,  coming  to  the  point  at  once,  and 
waiving  all  greetings. 

"Of  Billings's  fleet?" 

"Yes.  The  sloop-of-war,  the  Cyane,  went  aground 
some  time  yesterday." 

"How  did  the  news  come?    Is  it  authentic?" 

"It  is,  Captain.  Alberto,  the  peon,  brought  me  word. 
By  day  and  night  he  hurried." 

"Splendid,  senora!" 

"Commodore  Billings  has  only  one  other  vessel,  and 
that  is  his  flagship,  the  United  States,"  added  the 
senora. 

"Billings  isn't  likely  to  try  to  force  the  harbor  with 
a  single  boat.  The  Yankee's  mishap  is  our  oppor 
tunity." 

"But  the  Cyane  may  float  at  highest  tide  which  comes 
in  a  few  days  now." 

The  senora  then  added  significantly:  "The  United 
States  can  care  little  for  this  territory,  judging  from 
the  weakness  of  their  Pacific  fleet.  We  must  press  this 
on  our  reluctant  Admiral." 

"Yes,  we'll  have  to  coax  him  back  into  Monterey,  as  a 


334     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

mother  leads  a  bashful  child  into  company.  But — 
that  bumptious  Barcelo!  What  has  he  to  say  of  his 
conduct?  California  voted  to  come  under  our  protec 
tion,  he  with  the  others.  What,  under  heaven's  name, 
prompted  him?" 

"The  real  man  was  to  the  fore  this  morning,  Captain. 
His  blustering  second  self  was  submerged." 

"Second  self  submerged?  Well!  And  did  the  can 
nonading  in  that  rickety  fort  settle  the  dregs?  My 
word!  But  what  does  he  say  of  it  all?" 

"That  his  honor  demanded  the  resistance." 

"Then,  why  in  the  world  didn't  he  think  of  that  when 
he  voted  at  the  baile?  Not  bid  us  to  gather  our  basket 
of  eggs,  only  to  throw  a  bowlder  into  the  midst." 

"The  Colonel's  mind  was  on  cribbage  that  night 
rather  than  on  the  province." 

"And  the  coming  of  the  ships  took  his  mind  from 
cards  to  fighting,"  elevating  his  eyebrows. 

"Disappointed  ambition  did  that." 

"Disappointed  ambition?  Senora,  we  gave  him  no 
assurance  of  office  under  our  regime." 

"No,  but  he  cherished  the  desire,  and  importuned  you 
this  morning  to  confirm  it." 

"Well,  he  received  his  answer."  The  Captain's  back 
stiffened. 

"Yes,  Captain  Farquharson,  and  he  gave  us  his.  The 
soldier  of  other  days  awoke." 

"I  should  say  he  did !  I  wish  his  popguns  had  shaken 
into  Fairbanks  some  of  that  same  spirit." 

The  senora  rose  to  go.  "A  message  will  bring  me, 
Captain,  when  you  get  in  touch  with  the  Admiral." 


A  HAND  AT  DIPLOMACY  335 

"I  am  expecting  each  moment  to  hear  from  him.  At 
least  he  can  use  his  guns  to  fire  signals." 

Both  Farquharson  and  Twickenham  attended  the 
lady  to  the  street. 

The  holiday  appearance  was  gone  from  the  capital. 
Many  of  the  residents  had  taken  themselves  and  their 
families  out  of  the  possible-danger  zone.  The  others 
remained  well  within  the  shadow  of  their  own  rooftrees. 

Farquharson's  horse  took  him  to  the  high  ground 
back  of  the  city.  Reaching  perpendicularly  from  a 
half  dozen  hills  were  thin  pillars  of  signal  smoke. 
Touching  the  upper  air  drafts  they  bent  horizonward, 
and  drifted  slowly  into  nothingness. 

"My  smoke  does  its  work  all  right,  but  Fairbanks's 
guns  appear  to  be  dumb.  Drat  the  fellow !" 

His  glasses  pointed  out  to  sea.  For  a  moment,  by 
chance,  it  rested  on  the  town  below. 

"Well,  anyway  Monterey  will  learn  that  every  day 
isn't  a  fiesta  day."  He  half  chuckled. 

Again  he  directed  his  attention  to  the  smoke  now 
ascending  in  fresh  volume  as  peons  replenished  the  fires. 
Again  he  swept  the  ocean  with  his  spyglass. 

A  small  boat  was  landing  on  the  beach  below  the 
castle.  The  crew,  waist-deep  in  water,  was  sliding  it  in, 
on  the  crest  of  a  breaker.  One  man  separated  from  the 
others  and  walked  toward  the  town.  The  spyglass 
covered  him,  though  Farquharson's  thoughts  were  else 
where. 

"Why !  Why !"  in  a  moment,  "it's  old  Brown.  What's 
he  been  doing  on  a  native  fishing-boat?" 

He  shut  his  glass  together;  looked  once  more  at  the 


336     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

smoke  columns,  then  cantered  down  the  hill.  He  came 
on  his  former  employee  near  the  plaza. 

"How  do,  Brown?" 

"Fine,  Cap'.     How  are  you?" 

"Glad  to  see  you,  Brown." 

"Same  here,  Cap'.     I'm  powerful  glad." 

Farquharson  and  the  Missourian  gripped  in  cordial 
handshake. 

"Brown,  I  just  saw  you  leave  that  sailboat.  Are  you 
engaged  in  catching  fish  ?" 

Brown  leaned  against  the  Captain's  horse,  tangled 
his  hand  in  its  mane,  crossed  one  foot  over  the  other, 
and  said:  "Nary  fishin',  Cap'." 

"Well,  that's  a  deep-sea  fishing-boat." 

"I  reckon.     But  I  didn't  fish  none  in  that  craft." 

"Out  for  pleasure,  then.  Well,  what  have  you  been 
doing  with  yourself  since  I  saw  you  last?" 

Brown  wagged  his  head. 

"Cap',  I  signed  up  with  you  in  Santa  Fe  on  prospect 
of  big  game  huntin'  and  adventure.  Well,  there's  been 
no  big  game,  but  I'm  meetin'  adventure,  at  last." 

"I'm  much  interested.  I  presume  you  were  in  this 
boat  when  the  bombardment  was  going  on  this  morn- 

ing-" 

"Nope.  Only  met  her  a  while  back.  Cap',  you 
couldn't  guess  where  I  was  this  mornin'." 

"Well,"  laughing,  "as  you  would  say,  I  reckon  not." 
Brown  wagged  his  head  once  more,  placed  his  back 
squarely    against   the   horse,    and   announced   impres 
sively:     "Cap'n   Farquharson,  this  mornin'  I  was  on 
the  flagship  of  Admyral  Fairbanks." 


A  HAND  AT  DIPLOMACY  337 

The  Captain  dropped  the  bridle-rein  in  his  astonish 
ment.  The  horse  sidled  away  suddenly,  and  Brown 
nearly  lost  his  equilibrium. 

"Admiral  Fairbanks's  flagship!"  incredulously. 
"Why,  I  thought  you  had  taken  service  with  Mendoza." 

Brown  recovered  balance. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Mendoza  has  hired  me  to  work  for  him 
at  Mission  San  Jose,  and  I  was  on  Admiral  Fairbanks's 
ship  this  morninV 

"How  in  the  name  of  common  sense,  man,  can  you 
reconcile  the  two  things?" 

"Well,  Cap',  let  me  say,  there's  some  things  I  won't 
speak  of,  seem'  they're  political  and  we're  on  different 
sides." 

"Never  mind,  Brown ;  tell  me  how  you  came  to  be 
with  Fairbanks  to-day." 

"Well,  Cap,'  yesterday  mornin'  a  bunch  of  Injuns 
were  rowin'  me  out  to  one  of  our  warships,  for  what 
purpose  I'll  not  say." 

"All  right,  Brown.  It  was  doubtless  at  Half  Moon 
Bay.  But  never  mind,  go  on." 

"Well,  Cap',  whether  it  was  or  not,  we  got  lost  in 
the  fog.  Never  saw  so  thick  a  fog.  Couldn't  see  a  row 
lock." 

"Yes,  yes." 

"Well,  my  Injuns  rowed  and  rowed,  and  palavered, 
and  what  not.  Then,  they  began  cryin'  and  prayin'- 
like,  and  I  understood  we  was  lost.  Hours  went  by. 
Waves  began  splashin'  into  the  boat  later,  and  I  knew 
we  had  got  out  to  sea.  Innards  felt  awkward.  Small 
boat's  a  mean  place  for  seasickness." 


338     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Brown,  I  mean  no  offense,  but  will  you  not  tell  me, 
in  a  few  words,  how  you  happened  into  Fairbanks's 
flagship?" 

"Sure.  Fine  ship  she  is.  You  ever  been  on  board, 
Cap'?" 

Farquharson  laughed. 

"You  are  the  same  old  Brown,  I  see.  Now,  forge 
ahead." 

"Sure  pop,  Cap'.  Injuns  finally  gave  up,  dropped 
oars  and  lay  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  I  didn't 
blame  'em;  fact  there  was  as  much  sense  in  that  as 
doin'  anything  else,  under  the  circumstances." 

The  Englishman  leaned  on  the  pommel  and  waited 
resignedly. 

"All  suddenly  the  wind  began  to  blow  harder.  Whew ! 
but  she  came  a-ldtin'.  Seen  the  same  thing  many  a  time 
on  the  Mississippi  River.  Boat  pitched  like  a  log 
fallin'  down  hill.  Boss  Injun  grabbed  the  tiller,  and 
howled  jabber-talk  at  the  others  like  all-possessed. 
Oarsmen  got  their  paddles  goin'  in  no  time.  Didn't 
think  such  quick  work  was  in  the  critters." 

"Brown — I'm — listening." 

"All  right,  Cap'.  I'll  go  on  talkin'.  Well,  fog  be 
gan  clearin'.  The  Injuns  took  heart;  put  the  boat 
about  and  started  off  for  somewhere.  First  thing  I 
knew,  we  were  in  trouble  again.  The  ocean  pitched 
wors'n  before,  though  the  wind  had  eased  up.  Soon, 
sir,  our  boat  lifted  clear  of  the  water  and  dived  down 
like  a  duck.  Yes,  sir!" 

"Yes." 

"Seems  to  me  I  went  along  on  down  for  ten  fathoms 


A  HAND  AT  DIPLOMACY  SS9 

anyway.  Awfullest  commotion  under  there  you  ever 
heard  of.  All  the  time  I  was  thinkin',  yes,  sir,  thinkin', 
that  as  much  as  I  wanted  adventure  I  wasn't  lookin' 
for  it  on  the  bottom  of  the  ocean. 

"Then,  I  began  whirlin',  till  I  didn't  know  anything. 
First  I  remember  I  was  top  of  the  waves  once  more, 
sort  o'  dazed  like,  and  whippin'  away  from  us,  like  a 
hurricane,  was  an  all-fired  big  ship.  She  was  just 
a-clippin'  it,  knots  and  knots  per  hour.  You  see, 
we'd  been  caught  in  her  wash,  and  just  naturally  cap 
sized." 

"Yes,  yes.    It  was  the  flagship,  was  it?" 

"Certain,  Cap',  and  neat  work  she  did  pickin'  us 
up.  I  was  floatin'  on  my  back,  tryin'  to  think,  when 
a  rowboat  came  along.  A  couple  of  sailors  caught 
me  by  my  midships  and  shirt  collar.  In  no  time  I  was 
across  a  thwart,  head  hangin'  down,  and  the  sea-water 
just  boilin'  out  o'  my  mouth.  Sooner  than  I  could  tell 
it  every  one  of  the  Injuns  was  aboard  and  likewise 
bein'  deprived  of  the  water  they'd  swallowed. 

"Well,  the  big  boat  slowed  up  and  waited.  Our  row- 
boat  was  soon  alongside,  and  we  were  hauled  up." 

"So,  Fairbanks  brought  3^ou  to  Monterey  and 
dropped  you  on  that  fishing  smack.  Brown,  I'm  glad 
you've  met  with  an  adventure  at  last.  The  fleet  was 
off  the  harbor  when  you  left,  was  it  not?  The  entire 
seven  ships,  I  mean." 

"Cap',  the  seven  ships  were  out  there  all  right.  But 
I  don't  consider  that  capsizin'  my  real  adventure.  No, 
sir!" 

"You  met  another  mishap?"  turning  his  bridle-rein, 


340     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

and  looking  at  the  signal  smoke.  "I  hope  it  terminated 
as  well  for  you  as  the  first.  What  was  it?" 

"Nary  mishap.  Last  night  I  had  an  interview  with 
the  Admiral." 

Farquharson's  attention  quickly  turned  back  to 
Brown.  "An  interview  with  Fairbanks?" 

"Yes.  And  I  had  another  this  afternoon,  a  bunch 
of  officers  bein'  present.  I  consider  these  interviews 
worthy  of  the  name  of  adventure." 

"Man,  man,  what  are  you  talking  about?" 

"About  interviews  and  adventures,  Cap'.  You  were 
askin'  about  'em.  Do  you  mind  my  telling  you,  friend 
Cap',  that  you  seem  sort  o'  forgetful  and  absent- 
mindedlike?  Guess  I'll  be  goin'."  The  American  made 
a  move  to  depart  and  held  out  his  hand  to  Farqu- 
harson. 

"No,  no,  Brown,  don't  go.  I'll  pull  my  wits  together. 
I'm  more  than  interested.  Your  interviews  appeared 
so  big  to  me  that  I  couldn't  just  catch  it  at  first.  Now, 
please  tell  me  all  about  it." 

"All  right,  Cap'.  Since  you're  so  interested  I'll 
begin  at  the  beginnin'.  First,  I  and  the  Injuns  were 
taken  to  a  real  nice  place.  Beds  were  there,  and  every 
thing  looked  fine.  A  feller  in  uniform  came  'round,  the 
ship's  doctor,  and  ordered  me  to  'get  out  o'  those 
clothes.'  My  clothes  were  wet  and  uncomfortable,  any 
way,  so  I  didn't  mind  'em  off,  and  off  they  came.  He 
poked  and  pulled  me  most  unmerciful.  'You're  not 
hurt,'  said  he,  when  I'd  got  so  mad  I  wouldn't  have  stood 
another  poke.  'I'd  have  told  you  that  in  the  beginnin',' 
I  informed  him.  Then  to  another  uniformed  feller  he 


A  HAND  AT  DIPLOMACY 

called.  'Brandy  for  him,  a  full  gill,  and  get  him  some 
dry  clothes.'  Well,  the  Injuns " 

"Brown,  let's  come  to  that  interview  as  soon  as  we 
can.  Of  course  I  would  like  to  hear  every  particular, 
but  time  is  rather  short  just  now,  and  I  do  want  to  hear 
all  about  your  talk  with  the  Admiral." 

Farquharson's  horse  caught  his  master's  impatience 
and  pranced  around  the  American.  Brown  pivoted, 
keeping  his  face  turned  to  the  Captain. 

"Now,  see  here,  Cap',  if  I  tell  you  it  all,  it's  likely 
to  rile  you  up.  But  it's  no  secret.  I'd  be  willin'  to  tell 
it  to  anybody;  and,  between  man  and  man,  I'd  rather 
you'd  hear  it  from  me  than  from  somebody  else.  On 
the  whole,  I'm  glad  I've  a  chance  to  tell  you,  myself, 
bein'  that  we've  been  such  good  friends.  'Course,  Cap', 
I'd  be  sorry  to  lose  your  friendship,  but  politics  is  poli 
tics,  and  I  talked  to  the  Adr/zz/ral  to  boost  my  own  side, 
which  same  side  is  the  United  States." 

"Go  on,  Brown.  I  hope  you  will  tell  it  all.  I  know 
very  well  which  side  you're  on,  and,  as  you  say,  'Politics 
is  politics !' ' 

"All  right,  just  as  you  sa}^,  Cap'.  A  uniformed  man 
brought  me  some  clothes.  He  was  chaplain.  Nice* 
clever  young  feller  he  was.  I  soon  got  into  them  clothes. 
I  engaged  him  in  conversation,  as  to  his  place  of  resi 
dence,  and  so  forth.  Then  he  engaged  me."  Brown's 
language  assumed  company  dress  for  the  moment.  He 
straightened  up,  took  off  his  hat,  and  continued : 

"The  chaplain  said  to  me,  'You're  familiar  with  Mon 
terey,  are  vou?'  'Yes,'  I  said.  'I  was  'round  there 
considerable  when  I  worked  for  Cap'n  Farquharson.9 


342     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Cap',  he  knew  you  like  a  book.  Said  I,  'The  Cap'n 
is  smart  on  politics,  but  his  politics  don't  go  in  Cali 
fornia.'  'Why  not?'  he  asked  me.  'We  won't  have  it,' 
I  said.  'Who  ?'  he  asked  again.  'The  American  nation,' 
I  said,  'represented  by  the  American  fleet,  "Seenyore" 
Mendoza,  and  no  end  of  Spanish  big  fellers.  They're 
clear  agen  it,  and  so  am  I.' 

"The  chaplain  perked  up  a  good  deal  at  this.  I  went 
on.  '  "Seenyore"  Mendoza,  my  present  employer, 
fought  old  Napoleon,'  said  I.  'The  "Seenyore"  came 
here,  I  reckon,  to  get  rid  of  tyrants.  He'll  fight  to 
the  last  ditch  before  he'll  let  any  of  'em  get  in  here, 
and  I'm  with  him.' 

"The  young  preacher  looked  some  serious  now.  He 
went  away  after  a  while." 

"Go  on,  Brown,  please." 

"All  right,  Cap'.  The  name  of  the  Ad™*/ral's  boat 
is  the  Vanguard,  I  forgot  to  say.  Well,  after  supper 
the  preacher  came  'round  again.  'The  Admz/ral  wants 
to  see  you,'  he  said." 

"You  went,  of  course;  and  what  happened  there?" 

"I  could  see  from  the  start  the  preacher  was  strong 
with  the  Admiral.  'Mr.  Blair  tells  me  you  are  familiar 
with  Monterey,'  the  Admyral  said.  'I'm  pretty  famil 
iar,'  I  told  him.  The  Admiral's  room's  fixed  up  fine, 
almost  like  Mr.  Mendoza's  parlor,  only  not  so  big. 
'You're  the  Brown  who  was  in  Cap'n  Farquharson's 
service  for  a  time?'  he  asked  knowin'-like.  'If  you  mean 
his  employ,  yes,'  I  said.  'I've  heard  the  Cap'n  speak 
of  you  as  an  honest  feller,'  he  went  on  pleasant  enough, 
but  watchin'  sharp's  a  cat  at  a  mouse-hole.  I  remarked 


A  HAND  AT  DIPLOMACY  343 

to  him,  'I  and  all  my  folks  are  honest,  makin'  it  a  point 
to  be  square  in  money  matters.' 

"  'You've  quit  Cap'n  Farquharson's  employ?'  he 
asked.  'Yes,'  I  said.  'How  was  that?'  said  he.  'O,  for 
reasons,'  said  I,  and  shut  up  like  a  clam.  You  see,  Cap', 
he  was  askin'  personal  questions,  which  I  don't  allow  no 
man,  providin'  I  don't  want  to  answer. 

"In  a  minute  he  inquired  casuallike,  'You're  now  in 
the  employ  of  "Seenyore"  Mendoza,  is  that  it?'  I  re 
plied  very  shortlike,  'I  am,'  and  started  to  shut  up  like 
another  clam,  then  I  thought  better  of  it  and  blurted 
out,  'The  "Seenyore"  is  determined  no  king  sets  up  in 
business  'round  this  part  o'  the  world.' 

'"Where  does  this  "Seenyore"  live?'  asked  the  Ad- 
??z2/ral.  'At  Mission  San  Jose,'  I  told  him.  'Mission  San 
Jose?  How  long?'  'Ever  since  he  quit  fightin'  old 
Napoleon,  I  reckon,'  I  said.  I  tell  you,  that  AdT/M/ral's 
eyes  opened  wide.  'Has  the  "Seenyore"  a  following  in 
the  province?'  he  asked. 

"I  was  gettin'  pretty  mad  about  then.  I  told  him 
about  the  riflemen  Mr.  Mendoza  has  drillin',  and 
drillin',  Spaniards,  Injuns,  and  all. 

"Well,  the  Admiral  looked  away  and  looked  away. 
Then  suddenly  he  asked,  'Describe  Mendoza's  appear 
ance.'  I  pretty  soon  did.  'Yes,  the  same  man,'  he  said. 

"He  was  awful  quiet  for  a  minute,  then  he  spoke  out 
to  himself  like.  'Why  has  no  one  told  me  about  Men 
doza's  activities  here?  He's  a  man  to  be  taken  into 
consideration.  I  knew  him  years  ago.' 

"Finally  the  Admyral  said,  'I'll  test  it  out.  Sail  into 
Monterey,  just  as  we'd  planned.' 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"I  spoke  up,  'Monterey  don't  want  you.  If  anybody 
says  they  do,  it's  politics.  Mebbe  you  can  shoot  all 
these  cannon  at  'em  tell  they  couldn't  fight  back  any 
more,  but  just  the  same  they  don't  want  you.' 

"The  Admyral  looked  mighty  queer.  When  I  left 
he  was  still  thinkin'  and  thinkin'. 

"We  sailed  into  Monterey  harbor  and  out  again,  I 
still  stayin'  on  the  Admiral's  boat,  bein's  I  couldn't  get 
off,  the  walkin'  not  bein'  exactly  what  you'd  call  good. 

"First  thing  I  knew,  I  was  in  the  Ad?w2/raPs  room  a 
second  time.  A  power  of  officers  were  there  from  the 
other  ships.  'Repeat  your  statement  of  last  night,  if 
you  will,'  he  asked  of  me.  Well,  I  did.  Then  the 
Admyral  spoke  up,  'The  man's  words  were  verified  this 
mornin'  by  the  fort  firin'  on  us.' 

"The  officers  looked  black  as  thunder.  One  big  feller 
said,  'Reduce  their  defenses  and  invest  the  city  at  once.' 
the  Adraz/ral  replied,  'I've  no  call  to  take  Monterey,  if 
she's  unwillin',  and  I'll  not  do  it.' 

"Another  officer  spoke  up,  savage  as  the  dickens. 
'The  honor  of  her  Majesty's  navy  is  assailed.  Let  the 
fleet  take  over  the  city !'  'Not  while  I'm  commandin' 
the  fleet,'  put  in  the  Admyral. 

"They  were  talkin'  when  I  left.  Mebbe  they're  at  it 
yet.  The  fishboat  was  waitin'  for  me  and  the  Injuns. 
She  skimmed  through  the  waves  like  grease,  and  here 
I  be." 

"Confounded  chicken-hearted  cad!"  the  Captain  ex 
ploded. 

"How !"  from  Brown  sharply. 

"I  refer  to  Fairbanks." 


A  HAND  AT  DIPLOMACY  345 

"Fine  old  gent.  Even  if  his  politics  does  differ  from 
mine  I'm  not  agen  him  as  such." 

Farquharson  stared  at  the  sea.  "Well,  your  friend 
Fairbanks,  the  Admiral,  has  done  what  might  be  ex 
pected  from  him." 

"I  reckon  you  know  him  better'n  I  do." 

"Brown,  you  have  done  devilish  work."  Farquhar- 
son's  face  turned  on  the  other. 

"Cap',  if  it's  harm  to  you  personal,  I'm  sorry.  If 
it's  to  your  side  in  politics,  as  I  reckon  it  is,  I'm  all- 
fired  glad." 

The  Captain  continued  looking  at  Brown  for  a 
minute.  His  frown  faded.  "You've  had  your  adven 
ture,  old  man,  and  you've  hunted  big  game.  Yes,  by 
Jove!  and  bagged  it  too."  A  curious  smile  crept  over 
his  features. 

"Well,  I  haven't  got  it  with  me,  Cap'." 

"Say,  Brown,  when  you  went  out  yesterday  toward 
that  warship  of  yours,  did  you  see  that  the  Cyane " 

"No,  you  don't,  Cap'.  That  there's  where  secrets 
come  in,  secrets  from  you  and  your  side." 

"Boom!  Boom! — Boom!  Boom!  Boom! — Boom! 
Boom !"  sounded  from  the  sea. 

Farquharson  listened  intently. 

The  signal  was  repeated.  "Boom!  Boom! — Boom! 
Boom !  Boom ! — Boom !  Boom !" 

"Yerba — Buena — to-morrow,"  Farquharson  muttered, 
anger  clinching  his  teeth,  as  his  horse,  under  a  vicious 
jab  of  the  spur,  dashed  forward  and  into  the  town,  un 
ceremoniously  leaving  Brown. 

"Signaling,  hey?     Them  cannons  were  boomers,  all 


346     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

right.  I've  been  noticing  that  smoke,  back  up  on  the 
hills,  all  the  time  I  was  talkin'  to  the  Cap',  and  I  ex 
pected  to  see  or  hear  somethin'  answer  back." 

He  walked  leisurely  through  the  plaza  and  reached 
the  city  just  in  time  to  see  Farquharson  and  Seiiora 
Valentino  ride  away  in  hurried  gallop. 

"Ah,  ah!  Simon  J.  Brown,  get  to  work  yourself. 
Find  a  horse  and  light  out  for  the  north." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
BRAVING  THE  STORM 

"  A  HURRICANE  in  midsummer  in  the  temperate 
-£~IL  zone.  A  raging  ocean,  named  Pacific.  A  non- 
combatant  admiral  commanding  a  fighting  fleet.  What 
a  diabolical  combination!" 

"Add,  the  hurricane  is  piling  water  on  the  swelling 
tides  at  Half  Moon  Bay.  Soon,  the  Cyane,  willy,  nilly, 
deserts  her  sand-banks,"  was  Senora  Valentino's  doleful 
contribution. 

"And  the  Yankee  commodore  flies  his  flag  over  Mon 
terey,  appending  the  province  to  Yankeedom.  Blast 
it  all !  I'd  give  a  kingdom "  He  paused. 

"  'For  a  horse,'  does  your  Shakespeare  say?"  smiling 
a  little.  "There  is  only  one  thing  left.  If  the  mountain 
does  not  come  to  Mohammed,  then  Mohammed  must  go 
to  the  mountain." 

"Senora,  put  out  in  a  small  boat  to  the  flagship,  you 
mean?  It  would  be  futile,  and  surely  end  in  death. 
Now,  let  us  go  to  the  top  of  the  hill." 

A  bluff  thickly  wooded  with  scrub  oak  had  sheltered 
them.  Their  sure-footed  horses  nimbly  climbed  a  pre 
cipitous  path  zigzagging  to  the  summit. 

"See,  senora.     Look,  if  you  can." 

They  were  on  Point  Lobos  crest,  overhanging  San 
347 


348     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Francisco  Bay,  with  Yerba  Buena  village  straggling 
along  the  harbor  line. 

Grit  and  sand  whistled  through  the  air,  biting  the 
skin,  choking  the  throat  and  stinging  the  eyes.  With 
arched  backs  and  drooping  heads  their  mounts  met  the 
storm.  A  hundred  invisible  angry  hands  buffeted  the 
man  and  woman  thus  inquisitively  breasting  the  humor 
of  the  elements. 

The  wind  lessened,  as  wearied  by  too  great  exertion. 
The  spiteful  sand-drive  ceased.  Dimly  at  first,  then 
plainly,  yellow  dunes  hummocked  into  sight.  Speaking 
the  fury  of  a  half  hemisphere  of  water  rose  the  cres 
cendo  of  the  surf. 

Through  the  thinning  haze  they  peered  toward  the 
west.  There  was  the  sea.  Miles  away,  under  bare  poles, 
save  here  and  there  a  strip  of  canvas,  struggled  the 
English  fleet,  each  ship  face  to  the  gale,  the  spyglass 
showed  them,  now  rising  on  beam  end ;  now  sliding  prow 
downward;  then  teetering  and  dancing. 

"Senora,  Fairbanks  dares  not  enter  the  harbor.  It 
is  equally  impossible  for  me  to  get  out  to  him.  The 
storm  is  rising  again.  We  must  return  to  the  village." 

Gusts  of  wind  pursued  them  as  they  hastened  over 
yielding  sand  and  wild  strawberry-plot,  or  broke 
through  scrub-brush  and  tree-growth.  Pitiless  dust- 
clouds  drove  them  again  from  the  open  to  the  protection 
of  a  bluff. 

They  started  out  once  more. 

"Captain,"  in  half-stifled  voice,  "this  is  the  third  day 
Fairbanks's  vessels  have  stood  there  performing  antics. 
No?" 


BRAVING  THE  STORM  349 

"Yes,  seiiora,  and  the  third  day  we  have  been  in 
Yerba  Buena  waiting  for  Fairbanks  to  keep  his  tryst 
with  us.  A  hundred  times  we  have  gone  over  this.  I 
feel  greatly  to  blame  that  I  consented  to  bring  you  out 
into  this  simoon  again  to-day.  What  good?" 

"But,  think  you,  to-morrow  is  highest  tide.  If  Com 
modore  Billings's  sloop-of-war  floats,  no  hurricane 
keeps  him  from  blockading  Monterey.  Yes,  and  the 
guns  of  Colonel  Barcelo  could  not  prevent  him  from 
seizing  castle  and  city." 

"Fairbanks  should  be  shot !" 

"Captain,  had  Barcelo  been  kept  in  ignorance  as  to 
the  spoils  of  office  his  latent  patriotism  might  still  be 
slumbering;  but  your  English  truthfulness  was  too 
much  for  even  a  wise  diplomat  like  yourself." 

"I  was  a  fool !  an  inexcusable  fool !  But  who  would 
have  thought  the  Comandante  capable  of  such  vim  and 
sudden  action?  Besides,  seiiora,  there  was  Brown.  He 
stirred  up  quite  a  kettle  of  fish  in  his  own  way." 

"True.  But  Fairbanks  put  in,  notwithstanding 
Brown,  and  would  have  occupied  the  city,  had  his  re 
ception  been  more  cordial." 

"Yes,  yes." 

"Of  course  both  circumstances  worked  hand  in  hand. 
Doubtless,  neither  by  itself  would  have  deterred  Fair 
banks.  In  any  event,  it's  no  use  repining." 

"You  are  very  kind,  seiiora.  Curse  it  all  anyway !" 
After  several  moments  in  which  neither  spoke,  Farqu- 
harson  continued:  "Well,  Brown;  good  old  Brown. 
He's  a  mighty  decent  fellow,  true  to  his  colors,  and 
fights  as  fair  as  the  rest  of  us." 


350     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

They  halted  their  horses.  Beneath  them,  a  little  to 
the  right,  was  a  group  of  cabins  belonging  to  fisher 
folk,  smoke  arising  from  the  chimneys,  telling  of 
warmth  and  crude  comfort  inside.  The  boats  of  the 
habitants,  high  drawn  up,  were  securely  fastened  to 
their  moorings. 

The  wind  roared  and  hissed  and  fumed.  The  sefiora 
and  the  Captain  seemed  not  to  heed  it.  They  were  look 
ing,  straight-eyed,  out  to  the  lashing  sea  whereon  lay 
their  hopes  and  their  fears. 

"Captain,  your  friend  Brown  found  his  way  to  Fair- 
banks's  ship.  No?" 

"Yes,  Brown — tumbled — on  board." 

Their  horses  were  side  by  side,  yet  Farquharson's 
voice  sounded  muffled  through  the  howling  wind. 

"Ah !  tumbled.  Yes.  Still,  he  gained  the  Admiral's 
ear.  No?" 

"Fate  threw  the  game  in  Brown's  favor,  and  against 
us." 

"Fate  causes  the  daring  one  to  win ;  the  laggard,  to 
lose.  Is  it  not  so?"  raising  her  shoulders  and  waving 
a  hand,  with  the  grace  of  the  Latin  and  the  art  of  a 
beautiful  woman. 

The  spirit  of  the  air  paused  again. 

"Senora,  if  you  mean,  by  any  chance,  that  I  should 
send  a  boat  out,  why,  only  a  madman  would  go.  Be 
sides  Comandante  Pacheco  would  permit  no  boat  to 
leave  the  presidio ;  and  the  alcalde  would  do  the  same  for 
Yerba  Buena  village." 

Time  passed.  The  sefiora  suddenly  spurred  her 
horse.  The  startled  animal  leaped  forward.  "Come, 


BRAVING  THE  STORM  351 

Captain,  let  us  go  to  town,"  she  called,  already  several 
lengths  ahead. 

They  rode  persistently  on  till  they  reached  a  small 
shed  far  down  where  they  stopped  for  rest. 

"Perdition  on  this  inactivity !  If  we  could  only  do 
something — anything  to  fill  in  the  time  in  this  dead 
little  hole." 

"Yes,  Captain,"  in  a  detached  voice. 

"I  have  a  suggestion.  My  good  hostess,  Senora 
Ramon,  showed  me  yesterday  a  chess-board  most  re 
markable  in  workmanship,  brought  by  the  senor  her 
husband  from  Spain  years  ago.  They  spend  many 
evenings  over  the  game,  she  tells  me.  Let  us  borrow 
the  board  and  its  men  and  while  away  a  few  hours. 
At  least  with  these  we  can  have  the  satisfaction  of  plan 
ning — and  executing — our  own  maneuvers.  I  wish  we 
had  done  this  before,  instead  of  indulging  in  useless, 
nerve-wracking  vigils." 

"Thank  you,  Captain,  but  I — I  shall  be  otherwise 
engaged  this  afternoon." 

"I  understand,  senora.  You  do,  truly,  need  a  good 
rest.  Excuse  me  for  my  thoughtlessness.  I  know  you 
are  worn  out.  I  believe,  now  that  I  think  of  it,  I'll 
follow  your  example,  go  to  my  quarters  and  turn  in 
for  a  time  myself." 

After  partaking  of  a  warm  luncheon  which  her  friend 
Senora  Aguirre  had  prepared,  the  senora  went  to  her 
room.  In  the  home  of  Senor  Ramon,  at  the  other  end 
of  the  village,  the  Captain  settled  himself  for  a  siesta. 
Not  so  the  senora.  Tying  her  hair  closely,  she  put  on 
a  long,  thick  cloak  which  she  carefully  buttoned,  placing 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

the  hood  on  her  head  and  well  down  over  her  ears ; 
lastly,  a  veil  around  her  face.  Then  she  wrote  a  short 
note. 

Opening  a  window  she  dropped  lightly  to  the  ground, 
keeping  under  the  eaves  till  the  rear  of  the  house  was 
reached.  As  swiftly  as  would  a  boy  she  ran  to  the  stable 
and  ordered  the  sleepy  groom  to  give  her  an  untired 
horse.  She  was  soon  off,  vying  with  the  wind  in  speed, 
ignoring,  in  her  eagerness,  both  storm  and  cutting  sand. 

She  came  to  the  cabins  near  which  she  and  the  Cap 
tain  had  been  standing  not  two  hours  ago.  Taking  the 
first  house  at  hand  she  unceremoniously  opened  the 
door.  The  surprised  occupants,  a  man  and  woman, 
with  three  nearly  grown  sons,  started  from  various 
attitudes  of  inertia  and  excitedly  greeted  the  lady. 

"Quick !  Quick !"  she  said.  "A  boat  at  once !  I  must 
reach  those  ships  out  there  before  the  night  falls." 

"Never,  senora.  It  would  mean  the  life  of  anyone 
attempting  it." 

"No,  no!  Come!  Let  us  be  off!  Quick!"  hastily 
opening  a  small  chamois  bag.  Ten,  twenty,  thirty, 
forty,  fifty,  one  hundred  dollars  in  gold  she  counted 
out.  "It  is  all  yours,  if  you  will  but  come." 

The  youngest  of  the  sons  would  do  as  she  wished,  if 
the  father  and  brothers  would  join.  They  would  not. 
Yet  she  urged.  The  wailing  of  the  woman  of  the  family 
offset  any  progress  she  might  have  made  with  the  men. 

A  large  diamond  ring  which  the  senora  always  wore, 
day  or  evening,  gleamed  insinuatingly  into  her  eyes. 
She  caught  its  message.  Hastily  removing  it  she  held 
it  out: 


BRAVING  THE  STORM  353 

"This  and  the  gold,  as  well,  shall  be  yours.  See,  it 
is  worth  a  fortune.  Come,  be  quick !  A  boat !" 

"But  we  shall  drown !     We  shall  drown !" 

"I  tell  you  no,"  and  before  they  realized  what  they 
were  doing  they  were  out  of  the  house,  the  senora  pull 
ing  at  the  ropes  which  confined  one  of  the  largest  of  the 
little  cluster  of  vessels. 

The  boat  was  soon  at  the  edge  of  the  water.  The 
senora  jumped  in.  The  men,  half  dazed,  followed.  They 
bent  to  the  oars,  the  senora's  commands  accompanied 
by  the  weeping  vociferations  of  the  fisher-wife  and 
mother.  The  other  cabins  had  now  emptied  themselves, 
and  men,  women,  and  children  united  in  the  hue  and 
cry.  It  was  too  late.  Despite  the  handicap  of  wind 
and  wave  the  sturdy  craft  was  well  out,  under  the  com 
pelling  influence  of  the  senora's  determination. 

Time  after  time  they  were  on  the  verge  of  overturn 
ing.  Time  after  time  huge  billows  challenged  them. 
Again,  the  men  wearied  almost  to  exhaustion,  would 
have  given  up  the  oars,  to  drift  as  they  would,  had 
not  the  senora,  her  eyes  flaming,  threatened  them  with 
all  the  terrors  of  an  inferno;  or  as  the  mood 
changed,  pleading  with  them  with  the  earnestness  of  a 
Paul. 

They  passed  the  shadows  of  Point  Lobos  and  fared 
out  across  the  bar  to  the  open  sea.  Here  the  storm 
king's  fury  was  at  focus,  the  incoming  and  outgoing 
seas  forming  a  rip  tide.  The  boat  twisted,  pitched, 
tossed ;  was  flung  around  and  around.  Wave  upon  wave 
rolled  over  them.  By  some  trick  of  fortune  they  were 
not  hurled  into  the  ocean. 


354     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  father  and  eldest  son  bent  all  their  iron  strength 
to  the  oars;  while  the  others  baled  out  the  boat  with 
might  and  main,  the  sefiora  aiding  energetically. 

"Now,  broad-backed  father  and  mighty  son,  another 
stroke,  and  another!"  With  the  incision  of  steel  her 
voice  pierced  the  roar  of  the  tempest,  in  words  of  en 
couragement.  "Another  stroke  and  we're  head  on 
again.  Grande,  hombres!  She's  empty  of  water  now, 
and  lighter  to  row.  Adelante!" 

Slowly  over  surge  and  sea-trough  they  crawled. 

Just  as  they  appeared  to  be  getting  a  little  the  best 
of  the  situation  a  tremendous  rush  of  water  caught  the 
boat,  whirled  it  about  and  bore  it  harborward  at  ter 
rific  rate.  Before  the  storm  it  sped,  back  to  the  lea 
of  Point  Lobos  hills.  Here  the  fishermen  regained 
control. 

"Madre  de  Dios !"  exclaimed  the  father.  "Over  in 
one  of  those  coves  we'll  find  shelter  where  we  can  wait 
a  while,  till  we  can  get  back  home." 

"Point  Lobos  arroyo  is  here.  We  can  land,"  said 
one  of  the  sons. 

"Hombres,  turn  the  boat  and  sail  out  to  the  ships," 
Senora  Valentino  spoke. 

"No,"  from  the  father,  decisively.  "Neither  your 
money  nor  your  jewel  can  give  life  to  the  drowned." 

"Father  mine,"  from  the  youngest  son,  "why  not  go 
out  again?" 

"Silly  fool !    Go  out  and  be  food  for  fish?     No." 

"Ah!  the  youth  is  willing  to  face  the  dangers.  A 
woman  laughs  at  them.  Yet  the  most  skilled  boatman 
of  Yerba  Buena  is  afraid!  A  pretty  story  to  be  told 


BRAVING  THE  STORM  355 

around  the  net  mending  on  the  beach.  A  pretty  story ! 
No?" 

The  man  grunted. 

"Five  hundred  other  gold  pesos,  if  you  reach  the 
ships.  Why  not  be  rich,  enjoy  life,  and  leave  fishing  to 
others?" 

The  Mexican  grunted  again,  "No." 

"Turn  about.  I  warn  you,"  resolution  burning  her 
words. 

"No,  I  shall  not.    Death  awaits  if  I  do." 

Her  hand  rose  suddenly.  The  man  looked  into  the 
barrel  of  a  pistol  which  the  senora  pointed  steadily  at 
him.  "Death  awaits,  if  you  do  not !" 

"Huh !"  growled  the  father,  "your  powder's  wet  and 
your  pistol  good  for  nothing.  You  can't  fool  me." 

She  fired  the  pistol  into  the  air;  drew  a  second  weapon 
from  beneath  her  cloak  and  pointed  it  in  level  aim. 

"The  next  shot  will  not  go  wild.  Turn  back,  I  say; 
else  I  crook  my  finger,  ever  so  slightly,  and  you  die,  a 
coward !  Your  name  a  byword  among  fishermen  !" 

The  man  said  nothing.  Pride,  and  desire  of  gain 
spoke  urgently ;  but,  he  knew  the  temper  of  an  angry 
sea.  On  the  other  hand — that  pistol  barrel  glinting  so 
unpleasantly;  and  the  eye  of  the  senora — darkening — 
threatening.  What  a  will  that  white  woman  has !  Her 
hand  was  tightening — her  finger  beginning  to  press  the 
trigger. 

"Out  to  sea,  boys !"  he  cried,  suddenly,  gripping  the 
oars.  "Get  to  work  with  your  paddles.  All  together! 
Now !" 

Once  more  they  made  the  bar.     The  wind  had  veered 


356     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

from  west  to  north.  A  tiny  sail,  close-reefed,  was 
raised.  The  boat  flew  southward  along  the  coast,  just 
outside  the  whitening  edge  of  breakers.  The  fleet  lay 
to  the  right,  but  their  only  hope  of  reaching  the  flagship 
was  not  in  direct  course,  but  in  wide  sweep  out  to  sea, 
then  to  circle  back  toward  the  west. 

The  afternoon  wore  away.  The  sun  dipped  below  the 
water's  edge.  Leagues  out  of  sight  of  either  land  or 
warships  had  they  come. 

The  sail  was  reefed  yet  closer.  Father  and  sons 
tugged  on  the  tiller  rope.  The  rudder,  square  across 
the  course,  brought  the  boat  head  to  wind  which  was 
again  blowing  westward. 

The  little  craft  cavorted  like  a  bucking  broncho ;  then 
wheeled,  and  dashed  homeward  again.  A  sudden  gust 
tore  her  canvas  from  its  cordage.  The  men  sprang  to 
the  oars,  and  mightily  fought  the  sea  until  the  boat  was 
once  more  in  the  teeth  of  the  gale. 

They  were  in  their  element  now.  Many  a  night  had 
these  fishermen  lain  out  on  the  sea  when  unforeseen 
storm  made  entering  the  harbor  perilous.  Crossing  the 
bar  against  an  ocean's  fury  was  one  thing;  to  toss,  boat 
to  windward,  safe  from  treacherous  rocks,  for  a  night 
or  longer,  was  quite  another  matter. 

"Senora,"  spoke  the  father,  "with  our  sail  we  could 
have  reached  your  ships  by  time  of  dark.  We  cannot 
with  the  oars.  There's  nothing  to  do  but  lie  here.  When 
morning  comes  we'll  row  you  to  where  you  wish  to  go." 

The  stars  crept  out  and  kept  watch  over  the  heaving 
craft.  The  waves  hurled  spray  against  the  backs  of  the 
oarsmen,  of  which  they  took  no  notice,  except  as  the 


BRAVING  THE  STORM  357 

father  would  occasionally  direct  one  of  his  sons  to  bale 
out  the  water. 

Senora  Valentino,  who  had  sat  for  hours  through 
repeated  drenchings,  shook  with  the  cold.  She  was 
in  the  stern  of  the  boat  facing  the  others.  Through 
the  dimness  they  saw  her  crouching,  elbows  on  knees, 
her  body  quivering,  her  teeth  chattering. 

Their  rude  chivalry  awoke.  The  father  spoke  to  one 
of  the  sons,  who  searched  in  the  locker  till  he  found  a 
skin  which  had  been  rubbed  over  with  seal  oil.  The 
lady  wrapped  herself  in  it. 

The  storm  abated,  and  the  cold  increased  corre 
spondingly.  The  senora  drew  the  coat  more  tightly 
about  her.  After  a  while  she  slept. 

The  fishermen  began  talking  in  low  tones. 

"Five  hundred  pesos,"  from  the  eldest  son,  "besides 
the  one  hundred  in  hand!  We  can  buy  the  store  of 
Manuel  Lopez,  and  sell  the  fish  that  others  catch." 

"Five  hundred  pesos,"  from  the  youngest.  "Is  there 
that  much  money  in  the  world?  I  wonder  why  the 
senora  is  so  anxious  to  get  on  board  the  ships?" 

"Past  finding  out  are  the  ways  of  white  people,"  the 
father  replied.  "Long  have  I  ceased  to  try  to  under 
stand  them." 

"I  think,"  the  boy  continued,  "that  she  must  have 
a  lover  there." 

"Quien  sabe?  If  it  is  a  lover  I'll  think  he'll  find  she 
possesses  spirit.  Santa  Maria !  If  all  women  had  half 
as  much,  children,  I'd  bid  you  never  marry." 

"She  is  most  generous  with  money,"  in  way  of  de 
fense  from  the  second  son. 


358     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Money  flies  into  the  Spaniard's  pocket,  and  out 
again.  They  care  nothing  for  it.  But  this  one,"  nod 
ding  to  the.  sleeping  woman,  "would  have  killed  us  to 
day  if  she  had  not  been  given  her  way." 

"We've  been  calling  her  'senora.'  I  believe  we  should 
have  said  'senorita,'  "  came  from  the  eldest  son. 

"I  think  so  too;  and  I'm  sure  it's  her  lover  she 
is  going  to  meet  out  there,"  returned  the  youngest 
son. 

"Anyway,  she's  very  young,  and  very  handsome." 

"Handsome  is  that  handsome  does,"  retorted  the 
father. 

"But  she  makes  our  fortune  for  us ;  and  she  took  the 
risk  in  coming  here  the  same  as  we,"  reminded  the  mid 
dle  son. 

The  wind  spent  itself  finally  in  a  few  rampant  whirls. 
The  boat  commenced  to  rock  in  even  motion.  The  boys 
worked  industriously  with  the  baling  pails. 

The  father  took  from  the  locker  two  or  three  fishnets. 
These  he  bunched  together  and  placed  on  the  bottom 
of  the  vessel  near  where  the  lady  was  sitting.  He 
touched  her  on  the  shoulder.  "Awake,  senora.  The 
wind  has  gone  down,  and  we'll  no  longer  ship  water. 
I've  made  you  quite  a  good  bed  from  these  fishnets. 
You  can  lie  here  and  sleep  till  morning." 

"Thank  you,  hombre,"  as  she  snuggled  down  on  the 
improvised  bed. 

"We  usually  have  aguardiente,  but  none's  left  in  the 
locker  this  trip.  Only  by  chance  did  we  have  that  coat 
you're  wearing." 

"I'm  very  comfortable,     I  shall  be  as  warm  as  if  I 


BRAVING  THE  STORM  359 

were  at  home  in  my  own  room,"  she  laughed.  "Thank 
you,  again,  very,  very  much." 

"These  summer  nights  pass  quickly.  It  is  morning 
before  we  know." 

Hers  was  the  sleep  of  exhaustion. 

The  rattle  of  oars  in  rowlocks  awakened  her.  The 
men  were  no  longer  merely  holding  to  the  wind,  but  were 
pulling  vigorously.  She  felt  the  boat  urge  forward 
with  each  stroke.  She  raised  herself  a  little  and  looked 
over  the  gunwale.  There  was  darkness  everywhere,  save 
when  the  starlight  flashed  thinly  on  some  wave-roof. 

"A  good  part  of  the  night  is  spent,  lady,"  the  father 
said.  "The  currents  begin  to  run  as  usual,  now  that 
the  storm  is  past.  I'm  beating  to  the  windward  of  your 
ships.  You  may  as  well  go  back  to  sleep." 

After  two  hours  or  so  he  called  to  her.  "Which  ship 
is  it  that  you  want,  sefiora?" 

She  looked  about.    Morning  had  come. 

"Ah !  the  reenforcements  are  here,"  to  herself.  "Our 
Admiral  has  now  eleven  men-of-war."  Then  to  the  boat 
man  :  "That  vessel  on  the  left,  the  large  one  flying  two 
flags.  Sabe?" 

"Si,  senora." 

The  Mexicans  plied  their  oars  yet  more  diligently. 

Miles  slipped  away. 

"Boat,  ahoy !"  called  the  lookout  on  the  flagship. 

"Ship,  ahoy !"  in  reply  from  the  senora.  "I'm  coming 
on  board  with  a  message  for  the  Admiral." 

Without  warning  a  fragment  of  storm-beaten  sea, 
tearing  toward  the  harbor,  caught  alike  fisher-boat  and 
man-of-war. 


360     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Fend  off,  men !  Fend  off !  Our  suction'll  swamp 
you,"  shouted  the  lookout  to  the  fishermen. 

Oars  were  useless  against  the  onrush. 

The  leaning  masts  of  the  warship  overhung  the  strug 
gling  fisher-boat,  wheeled  upward,  then  away.  Into  the 
maelstrom  drew  the  little  craft.  Sailors  under  hurried 
orders  scurried  about  the  decks  of  the  listing  man-of- 
war.  Ropes  whisked  over  the  sides  down  to  the  water 
which  was  overclouded  by  foam  and  spray. 

"The  little  chap's  sunk!"  sounded  from  the  man-of- 
war. 

"No,  she  ain't.  'Ere's  a  taut  rope.  Belike  she's 
fast." 

Figures  clinging  to  the  boat,  upturned,  were  bobbing 
about  in  the  settling  mist. 

"She's  fast  to  our  line,  nose  aloft  like  a  hooked  fish !" 
from  the  decks. 

"There's  a  H'english  girl  on  board!"  shouted  the 
look  out.  "Didn't  ye  'ear  'er  yell?" 

Sailors,  ropes  knotted  under  their  arms,  were 
dropped  to  the  sea  by  their  fellows. 

"Them's  Mexicans,"  sputtered  a  big  salt  rolling  over 
the  taffrail  with  his  burden.  "I've  a  Mex.  kid  'ere,  I 
fancy." 

An  elderly  man,  uniform  gold-braided  and  gold-laced, 
came  up. 

The  supposed  Mexican  lad  threw  off  the  enveloping 
folds  of  the  oiled  coat.  Jauntily,  hand  raised  as  if  in 
salute,  Senora  Valentino  stepped  forth,  apparently  as 
fresh  as  ever  in  her  life,  despite  her  dripping  and  cling 
ing  garments. 


BRAVING  THE  STORM  361 

"Come  on  board,  sir !" 

"My  God !  Sefiora  Valentino !" 

"At  your  service,  Admiral  Fairbanks,"  with  an  exag 
gerated  curtsy. 

Sailors  and  marines  backed  away. 

"Madam,  what  has  happened?" 

"Too  little,  sir.  Much  must  happen,  and  at  once," 
her  eyes  holding  his. 

"First,  hot  blankets  and  the  doctor's  draughts,  good 
lady." 

"I  require  neither.  A  change  of  clothing  would  be 
acceptable,  but "  lifting  her  hands  deprecatingly. 

"Not  so  impossible  as  you  might  think.  The  cabin 
that  was  my  wife's  will  supply  your  needs,  I'm  sure. 
She  left  her  keys  with  me  when  she  went  ashore  at  the 
Cape.  The  dispatch-boat  which  sent  me  flying  here  at 
an  hour's  notice  left  her  no  time  to  get  her  belongings. 
When  you  have  made  ready  we'll  confer;  that  is,  after 

you  have  seen  Doctor  Bartlett." 

*•       *        *-       *       *•        & 

"Seiiora  Valentino,"  the  Admiral  had  broken  in, 
"Mr.  Blair,  our  chaplain,  the  man  of  many  tongues, 
learned  from  the  men  with  you  your  experiences  of 
yesterday  and  last  night." 

"So,  senor?" 

"The  risk  you  took  in  coming  to  me  speaks  better 
your  conviction  that  I  should  take  Monterey  than  could 
any  word  of  yours.  But,  why  has  Colonel  Mendoza 
not  been  mentioned  to  me  either  by  you  or  Captain  Far- 
quharson?  Why  not?" 

"Senor  Mendoza  speaks  much  these  days  of  democ- 


362     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

racy  and  fair  play.  Yet,  both  democracy  and  fair  play 
demand  that  the  minority  accepts  the  decision  of  the 
majority.  Why  should  we  have  mentioned  Mendoza? 
He  stands  almost  alone.  As  to  Governor  Barcelo " 

"Do  not  speak  to  me  of  Governor  Barcelo!  Only 
by  threats  of  summary  court-martial  did  I  prevent  my 
captains  from  bombarding  the  capital  the  other  day." 
The  Admiral  sprang  excitedly  from  his  chair. 

"Wait  a  moment,  Admiral,  if  you  will." 

He  was  again  seated. 

"Colonel  Barcelo  sends  word  to  you  through  me  that 
he  has  satisfied  his  honor,  and  that  you  are  at  liberty 
to  occupy  Monterey,  for  all  of  him.  He  has  taken  all 
his  troopers  to  his  hacienda  eight  leagues  away  in  the 
country." 

"When  he  fired  on  me,  then,  it  was  merely  by  way 
of  shotted  salute?"  in  sarcasm. 

"Nothing  more,  practically." 

"Seriora,  a  world  war  might  easily  start  here." 

"Admiral,  a  world  peace  might  begin  here  at  your 
word.  The  United  States  cares  nothing  for  this  terri 
tory.  Two  vessels  only  have  they — worn  and  old — in 
their  Pacific  squadron.  They  even  call  their  flagship 
'the  lumber  wagon,'  by  way  of  jesting.  California  is  the 
balance  weight  of  Texas  and  Oregon.  The  province 
calls  to  you.  Peace  calls  to  you.  Else  the  future  sees 
dispute  and  war  over  province  and  empire  treasure- 
trove. 

"Admiral  Fairbanks,  this  is  the  hour,  and  you  are  the 
man.  If  you  fail,  and,  later,  the  shadows  of  war 
darken  these  shores,  then  must  you  answer  at  the  bar 


BRAVING  THE  STORM  363 

of  conscience  and  humanity.  I  have  risked  my  own  life, 
and  forced  the  poor  Mexicans  with  me  to  risk  theirs, 
that  I  might  plead  with  you." 

The  commander  looked  earnestly  at  the  woman. 

"Admiral,  consider  the  tremendous  potentialities  that 
await  your  inaction." 

He  studied  the  floor  in  deep  thought. 

"Now  is  the  supreme  moment,  Admiral  Fairbanks." 

The  Admiral  arose,  looked  out  the  window,  walked 
back  to  his  desk,  put  his  hands  in  his  pocket,  then 
clasped  them  behind  him ;  once  more  went  to  the  window, 
and  back  again ;  took  a  speaking-tube  off  its  hook. 
"How  are  those  Mexicans  getting  along  in  the  cockpit, 
Doctor?  Good.  Have  they  breakfasted?  Each  one 
enough  for  three,  you  say?  Good." 

He  sat  quiet  a  moment.  Arising,  he  came  in  front  of 
the  senora,  lines  of  firmness  marking  his  face. 

"Too  many  times  have  the  shadows  of  war  darkened 
our  world  history.  Her  gracious  Majesty,  our  young 
Queen  Victoria,  ever  counsels  to  work  in  the  interest 
of  peace.  Never  have  I  had  wish  other  than  this. 
Senora  Valentino,  what  you  say  strikes  home.  I  shall 
invest  Monterey  to-morrow." 

A  marine  rapped  at  the  door.  He  saluted  and  gave 
a  message. 

"The  Calliope  signals  that  Padre  Osuna  wishes  to 
speak  with  Admiral  Fairbanks." 

"Ah!  she  must  have  picked  up  the  padre  at  San 
Diego,"  from  the  senora.  "The  high  wind  has  returned 
him  north  in  double-quick  time." 

"Let  us  go  on  deck,  senora.     The  Calliope  and  three 


364     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

others  came  up  coast  last  night  and  knew  us  by  our 
lights." 

A  ship's  boat  was  approaching  bearing  the  Fran 
ciscan.  As  it  swung  under  the  bow  of  the  flagship  the 
friar  seized  a  rope  and,  hand  over  hand,  as  adept  as  a 
sailor,  he  reached  the  side  of  the  senora  and  the  Ad 
miral. 

After  a  few  words  of  greeting  the  padre,  noting 
Senora  Valentino's  questioning  look,  announced:  "I 
have  traveled  from  Monterey  to  San  Diego.  The  south 
land  is  crying  aloud  for  English  rule,"  directing  his 
words  to  the  Admiral. 

"In  the  interest  of  peace,  Padre  Osuna,  I  shall  take 
Monterey  to-morrow,"  from  Fairbanks. 

After  a  few  minutes  in  conversation  the  senora  said: 
"Senora  Padre,  I  have  boat  and  men  here,"  pointing 
to  the  place  where  the  Mexicans  were  sitting  on  their 
inverted  craft.  "Will  you  not  go  with  me  to  Yerba 
Buena?" 

"I  will,  senora,  and  my  thanks  are  yours." 

Sailors  raised  the  boat  on  davits  and  lowered  it  to 
the  water.  The  fishermen  joyfully  turned  home,  the 
padre  and  the  senora  conversing  quietly  in  the  stern. 

"That  bloomin'  Mexican  has  a  lot  o'  money  bulgin' 
under  'is  belt,"  one  tar  remarked  to  another,  as  they 
watched  the  fish-boat  making  for  shore. 

"Haw!  haw!  haw!"  laughed  a  third.  "You  should 
'a  seen  Dickie  this  mornin'.  Somebody  sings  out, 
'There's  a  H'english  gal  aboard.'  'No  such  thing,' 
says  Dickie,  comin'  over  the  side  and  spittin'  water  like 
a  sperm  w'ale,  'they're  h'all  black  Mex.,  an'  'e  a  'oldin' 


BRAVING  THE  STORM  365 

the  purtiest  w'ite  gal  I  ever  see  h'all  the  time.  Haw ! 
haw !"  slapping  Dickie's  shoulder.  Then,  in  different 
tones:  "Admiral's  signalin'  a-plenty.  Wonder  w'at 
h'it's  all  about." 

The  senora,  the  padre  and  the  Mexicans  made  Yerba 
Buena  safely,  and  found  the  little  town  in  uproar  over 
the  astounding  escapade  of  a  senora  who  had  persuaded 
good,  sane  fishermen  to  go  with  her  to  sure  death. 

Father  and  sons  escaped  from  congratulating  friends 
to  the  seclusion  of  their  cot  where,  with  the  mother,  they 
rejoiced  over  their  good  fortune.  Not  only  were  they 
safe  after  an  experience  over  which  Yerba  Buena  was 
to  talk  for  a  decade,  but  that  most  wealthy  senor  the 
ships'  treasurer  had  given  each  ten  gold  sovereigns  for 
himself,  besides  paying  the  sire  the  one  hundred  sov 
ereigns  promised  by  the  senora. 

Senora  Valentino  was  indefatigable  as  well  as  in 
trepid.  Soon,  with  the  friar  and  Farquharson,  she  was 
dashing  on  horseback  down  the  peninsula  toward  Mon 
terey. 

"So  you  read  my  note  to  Senora  Aguirre,"  she  re 
marked  to  Farquharson. 

"I  did,  and  learned  of  your  purpose  to  go  out  to  the 
fleet.  Finding  at  the  Mexican  settlement  that  you  had 
actually  put  this  purpose  into  effect  I  got  a  boat  and 
was  just  pushing  off  to  follow  you  when  a  provost  mar 
shal  placed  me  under  arrest.  Confound  him!  as  if  I 
didn't  have  a  right  to  do  as  I  pleased,  stormy  or  not! 
And  that  blasted  comandante  held  me  at  the  presidio 
till  your  return." 

"Then  you  also  were  coming  to  the  flagship?    No?" 


366     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Senora,  I  never  dreamed  you  would  think  of  such  a 
thing  as  going  out  there  by  yourself.  I've  never  felt  so 
small  in  my  life.  It  would  be  a  relief  if  I  was  lying  at 
the  bottom  of  the  harbor." 

"Not  so,  Captain.  It  was  a  mad  thing,  my  venturing 
forth ;  but,  you  know,  when  a  woman  wills  she  will.  So, 
no  fault  in  you,  Captain  mine.  Pray  think  no  more  of 
it.  As  we  ride  along  I'll  tell  you  more  of  my  meeting 
with  Fairbanks  after  I — tumbled  on  board  his  vessel." 

They  reached  the  high  ground  near  the  Laguna  de 
las  Mercedes,  two  leagues  beyond  Mission  Dolores.  A 
deep-voiced  exclamation  from  Padre  Osuna,  accompa 
nied  by  a  full-arm  gesture,  directed  their  attention  to 
the  right.  The  ocean,  as  if  making  amends  for  violent 
temper  of  the  past  days,  lay  in  unruffled  mood  before 
them.  The  eleven  vessels  of  the  fleet,  spread  white 
against  sapphire  arc,  were  sailing  to  the  south. 

Farquharson's  eyes,  an  admiring  light  in  them, 
sought  the  sefiora. 

"Senora,  Fairbanks  is  really  going  to  Monterey !" 

She  inclined  her  head. 

"You  are  a  wonderful  woman.  I  have  said  this  be 
fore.  I  say  it  now  with  double  emphasis." 

The  three  halted  and  watched  the  fleet. 

"Come,  let  us  ride  on,"  from  the  sefiora,  impatient  at 
delay. 

"Well,"  remarked  Farquharson,  "Barcelo  has  spiked 
the  castle  guns,  and  skedaddled.  The  Yankee's  flagship 
is  stuck  in  the  mud,  with  her  consort,  the  Cyane.  I 
wonder  what  the  deuce  will  keep  that  old  dunderhead, 
Fairbanks  out  of  Monterey  now!" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
BUT  YET  A  WOMAN 

FOG  everywhere.  Congealed  fog  dripped  from  the 
roofs  of  Monterey.  It  fell,  drop,  drop,  drop,  in 
elongated  pearls,  on  the  slippery  flag  walks  around  the 
houses.  Mountains  of  fog  lay  over  the  city,  and  slid 
in  huge  avalanches  into  the  valleys.  The  harbor  and 
near-about  sea  were  filled  with  vapor-hills  and  crags. 
Fog  blanketed  the  streets,  blurred  the  trees,  blotted  the 
symmetry  of  buildings  into  bewildering  shapelessness, 
and  peopled  the  town  with  weird  specters. 

Occasionally  a  candle-point  showed  feebly  in  a  corner 
lamp.  Once  in  a  while  the  dimness  was  accentuated 
by  a  lighted  space  streaking  a  yellowish  gleam  into  the 
semiopaqueness — the  candle  of  some  early-rising  Mon- 
tereyan  shining  from  his  window.  There  were  few  of 
these  lights  to  aid  the  passer-by ;  and  there  were  few 
passers-by.  Not  only  was  the  hour  early  for  the  people 
to  be  about,  but  the  city  itself  was  almost  tenantless. 

It  was  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  day  since  the  English 
fleet  had  sailed  into  Monterey,  and  out  again. 

Colonel  Barcelo,  with  his  soldiers,  had  marched  away 
to  Alisal,  the  colors  from  the  fort  and  from  the  square 
emblazoned  at  the  head  of  his  column.  After  him  rode 
the  most  of  the  wealth  and  fashion  of  the  capital ;  that 
is,  the  most  of  those  who  had  not  preceded  him. 

367 


368     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  Colonel  declared  that  he  had  satisfied  honor, 
and  that  he  would  now  retire  in  face  of  superior  force. 

Calmness  of  weather  had  succeeded  wind-storm ;  still 
the  fort  slept  peacefully  beneath  the  empty  flagpole, 
and  the  city  plaza  caught  no  shadow  of  foreign  banner 
floating  from  the  lofty  staff  in  its  center. 

A  horseman  rode  into  town,  made  his  way  hurriedly 
through  the  plaza  and  crossed  to  a  smaller  plaza.  He 
drew  in  sharply  when  he  reached  a  house  in  which  a 
light  was  showing  through  the  railing  of  a  veranda  on 
the  second  story.  He  turned  into  the  porte  cochere. 
A  vague  figure  was  heaped  across  the  threshold  of  the 
front  door. 

"Ola !    Ola !   Benito !"  called  the  rider. 

The  figure  resolved  itself  into  a  man  wrapped  in  a 
blanket.  Turtlelike  his  head  emerged  from  its  folds. 

"Benito  is  with  Colonel  Barcelo.  I  am  Alberto,  peon 
of  Senor  Miramonte." 

"Has  Senora  Valentino  returned  to  the  capital?  Do 
you  know?" 

"The  senora  returned  last  night,  senor." 

"Is  she  within?" 

"She  is  not,  senor." 

"Where  is  she?" 

"She's  away,  senor." 

The  man  loosened  rein  and  started  down  the  street. 

"Captain  Farquharson,"  called  the  peon,  in  tardy 
recognition. 

"Many  pardons,  but  may  I  make  free  to  speak? 
The  senora  brought  my  wife,  Lupincha,  and  me  along 
as  servants,  since  she  heard  the  Barcelo  place  is  vacant. 


BUT  YET  A  WOMAN  369 

Senora  Miramonte  lent  us.  May  I  say,  Captain,  my 
lady  has  taken  Lupincha  with  her  and,  attended  by  a 
peon  guard,  is  now  at  the  castle,  leaving  an  hour  ago  ?" 

"At  the  castle?     An  hour  ago?" 

"Si,  Senor  Captain.  Breakfast  is  to  be  served  there." 

"Breakfast — at  the  castle !"  the  man  speaking  half  to 
himself,  and  as  if  perplexed. 

Alberto  arose,  huddled  his  blanket  more  closely  about 
his  shoulders,  and  came  to  the  rider.  "Several  senoras 
and  senors  will  be  at  the  meal,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 
In  yet  lower  tone  he  added:  "They  are  there  to  see 
the  arrival  of  the  English,  and  the  defeat  of  the  gringos 
Americanos — the  Bostons."  Bowing  obsequiously,  he 
glided  over  to  his  place  on  the  threshold. 

"Senora  Valentino  and  friends  are  now  at  the  castle, 
you  say?" 

"Si,  senor." 

Farquharson  galloped  back  to  the  city  plaza.  He 
paused  for  a  moment.  The  horse  was  restless  in  the 
chilly  air.  Its  shod  hoofs,  clattering  on  the  pavement, 
struck  showers  of  sparks.  He  rode  on  a  few  steps,  and 
stopped  again,  listening  intently. 

"'Tis  only  the  boom  of  the  surf,"  and  started  out 
briskly  for  the  castle.  On  arriving  he  saw  light  coming 
through  the  windows,  and  heard  the  voices  and  laughter 
of  men  and  women.  Two  or  three  peons  bearing  baskets 
appeared  at  the  postern. 

"I  wish  to  speak  with  Senora  Valentino.  Tell  her 
Captain  Farquharson  is  here." 

The  senora  soon  was  at  the  door. 

"I'm  here,  Captain." 


370     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Barcelo's  in  the  sulks." 

"As  I  expected." 

"As  to  his  giving  the  right  hand  of  fellowship  to 
Fairbanks,  that  is  not  to  be  thought  of." 

"Again,  as  I  expected." 

"When  I  saw  him  he  was  as  savage  as  a  caged  bear." 

The  senora  nodded  her  head  meditatively. 

"It's  well  the  cannon  are  spiked." 

"They  have  been  unspiked.  Some  one  has  drilled  out 
the  priming  tubes." 

"You  don't  mean  it,  senora !" 

"Exactly." 

"My  hat!     It's  enough  to  drive  one  mad." 

"Last  night,  about  midnight,  I  heard  Fairbanks  off 
Point  Pinos  signaling  the  other  vessels  in  his  fleet ;  so 
he's  near  at  hand,  and  I've  got  together  a  little  com 
pany  to  welcome  him." 

"To  think  that  this  of  all  days  should  see  such 
blooming  fog.  If  'twould  only  clear  up  so  the  Ad 
miral  could  get  in,  it  would  end  all  this  fuss.  But, 
something  must  be  done  about  Barcelo.  Some  of  these 
men  hereabouts  are  talking  more  and  more  in  favor  of 
a  California  republic.  Their  nonsense  has  evidently  got 
into  the  Colonel's  system." 

"And  disappointed  ambition  might  have  another 
chance  if  such  a  republic  came  into  being.  My  brother- 
in-law  has  a  good  deal  of  the  bulldog  in  him." 

"I  am  willing  to  believe  almost  anything  of  him  now. 
But  we've  got  to  get  to  work;  otherwise  he'll  be  down 
here,  likely  as  not,  blowing  off  his  fireworks  again," 

"Have  you  a  suggestion,  Captain?" 


BUT  YET  A  WOMAN  371 

"No.  I've  thought  till  I  can't  think  any  longer.  In 
the  first  place,  I  can't  do  anything  with  him ;  and  it's 
too  far  for  you  to  go  out  there.  In  the  second 
place " 

"It  will  be  best  for  me  to  be  here  when  Fairbanks 
comes.  When  he  once  gets  in  we  must  take  him  by  the 
hand  and  keep  him  here." 

"We  are  in  a  deuce  of  a  fix,  between  the  devil  and 
the  deep  sea,  so  to  speak.  On  one  hand,  Barcelo,  sulky 
and  savage,  and  threatening  to  blow  the  British  fleet  off 
the  map.  On  the  other  hand,  Fairbanks  so  scrupulous 
he's  ready  to  throw  the  gifts  of  the  gods  back  into  their 
arms,  at  the  slightest  excuse.  When  I  left  you  yester 
day  at  Miramonte's  I  hurried  south  to  run  down  ru 
mors.  I've  caught  up  with  the  rumors  but  haven't 
accomplished  anything  else.  I  have  men  watching 
Barcelo's  movements.  What  else  to  do  I  don't  know." 

"Well,  Captain,  let's  do  nothing  for  the  present — 
since  there's  nothing  to  be  done." 

"If  this  accursed  fog  would  only  lift." 

"Our  standing  here  won't  lift  it.  Come  in  and  break 
fast  with  us." 

"Thank  you,  but  I  want  to  go  back  to  the  hills  to 
see  if  the  sentinels  have  possibly  caught  sight  of  the 
fleet  through  some  rift  in  the  fog-banks." 

"The  fleet  is  off  the  harbor  all  right,  my  friend. 
What  matter  whether  you  see  it  or  not?  You  will  do 
better  for  having  had  refreshment." 

"Not  now.  Perhaps  I'll  return  later.  I  haven't  yet 
inquired  how  you  are.  How  is  it  with  you?" 

"I  am  all  right,  thank  you.     I  could  ride  to  Alisal." 


372     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"But  you  cannot  be  spared  from  here  when  the  fog 
lifts.  Talk  about  a  California  republic!  Senora,  you 
should  be  ruler  of  the  Californias,  including  Texas  and 
Oregon." 

"Captain!  Captain!"  her  merry  laugh  sounding 
within  the  old  castle.  "Again,  my  friend,  breakfast. 
Hot  coffee  will  go  well,  I  am  sure." 

"You  are  very  good,  but  I  will  decline  for  the  preserft. 
Good-bye  for  a  while.  If  anything  comes  up,  I'll  let 
you  know.  By  the  way,  why  not  make  Barcelo  governor 
and  general?  Morando  says  he  won't  have  the  office, 
anyway,  and  it  might  save  no  end  of  confusion." 

"Don't  think  it.  It  would  only  add  fuel  to  the  flame. 
Crisostimo's  pride  would  be  seriously  touched  at  being 
made  second  choice.  Besides,  he  isn't  the  man  for  the 
place,  and  the  home  office  would  justly  blame  us.  He 
has  been  a  brave  and  efficient  fighting  soldier,  but  never 
could  be  executive  or  diplomatic." 

Rider  and  horse  were  soon  lost  to  sight. 

The  senora  returned  to  her  friends. 

Breakfast  was  served  immediately.  A  table  had  been 
made  ready  in  the  old  armory.  Vacant  musket  racks 
and  empty  ammunition  boxes  were  strange  adornment 
for  a  breakfast,  the  room  itself  cobwebbed  and  dusty. 
Sperm-oil  lanterns  furnished  needed  light. 

Peons  served  coffee  and  tortillas,  accompanied  by 
sea-trout  browned  to  a  turn  over  charcoal.  This  was 
followed  with  a  delicious  dish  made  of  chicken  and 
green  corn  boiled  together,  and  the  inevitable  frijoles. 
Strawberries,  large  and  luscious,  which  had  been  soaked 
in  Mission  wine,  were  plentifully  distributed  at  each 


BUT  YET  A  WOMAN  373 

plate,  of  which  the  breakfasters  partook  at  intervals 
throughout  the  meal,  eating  the  fruit  from  the  stem. 
Fresh  figs  stewed  in  sherry  completed  the  repast. 

There  was  little  conversation  in  this  company  made 
up  of  individuals  usually  vivacious  and  talkative.  The 
tenseness  of  eager  expectation  held  everyone  quiet. 

The  meal  was  not  much  more  than  finished  when  Cap 
tain  Farquharson  entered  the  room  unannounced.  The 
men  and  women  sprang  up. 

"Senora  Valentino,"  the  Captain  called. 

She  stepped  to  his  side. 

"My  scouts  have  rushed  word  to  me  that  Barcelo  has 
left  Alisal  and  is  stampeding  to  Monterey." 

"What  is  that  you  say,  Captain?"  from  the  senora, 
incredulously. 

"Barcelo  is  but  a  few  miles  from  the  outskirts  of 
town,  saying  he  is  going  to  proclaim  himself  dictator  of 
a  California  republic,  and  calling  down  vengeance  on 
anyone  opposing.  The  fat's  in  the  fire  if  Fairbanks 
gets  wind  of  this." 

"I  must  ride  at  once  and  meet  the  Colonel." 

"Would  that  I  could  meet  him  with  my  old  company 
in  the  Coldstream  Guards !  Bull-dog  or  no,  he'd  not 
forget  the  hour.  I'll  go  along  with  you,  sefiora,  but 
it's  precious  little  that  anyone  can  do  with  such  a 
man." 

After  requesting  those  present  to  await  her  return, 
the  senora  mounted  her  horse  and  rode  rapidly  toward 
El  Camino  Real,  Farquharson  riding  with  her  as  far 
as  the  city  limits,  when  she  said  to  him : 

"I  will  go  on  now  by  myself,  Captain." 


374     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"As  you  wish.  I'll  stay  here,  then,  till  you  come 
back." 

Time  dragged. 

Captain  Farquharson  dismounted  and  nervously  led 
his  animal  back  and  forth. 

An  hour  passed,  and  yet  another.  Still  the  Captain 
was  at  his  post.  For  the  hundredth  time  he  fiercely 
drew  his  watch  from  his  pocket,  scowled  at  its  face  and 
as  fiercely  thrust  it  back. 

In  sudden  desperation  the  man  sprang  to  horse. 
With  two  fingers  on  his  lips  he  began  a  whistle-call,  but 
stopped  abruptly.  The  sefiora  had  emerged  from  the 
fog. 

"Senora  Valentino,  long  ago  I  sent  men  to  see  if  you 
were  safe.  They  reported  that  you  and  Barcelo  were 
riding  up  and  down  an  outer  street  talking,  talking, 
talking.  You  have  been  in  conference  with  him  over 
two  hours.  Of  course  nothing  could  be  done  with  him." 

"Colonel  Barcelo  has  gone  home,  after  sending  his 
men  to  the  barracks.  When  Fairbanks  comes  the  Col 
onel  will  turn  the  government  over  to  him  formally,  and 
give  him  the  right  hand  of  fellowship." 

"How  did  you  manage?"  he  asked. 

"By  making  appeal  both  to  his  less  worthy  nature 
and  to  his  higher." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"First,  by  arousing  jealousy,  convincing  him  that  a 
California  republic  would  surely  make  Mendoza  its 
president.  Second,  in  appealing  to  his  nobler  side.  I 
said  to  him  that  a  California  republic  would  mean  in 
ternecine  strife — Monterey,  the  brain  and  heart  of  the 


BUT  YET  A  WOMAN  375 

province,  fighting  the  north  and  the  south,  its  hands 
and  feet.  So  between  the  two  arguments  the  cause  was 
won." 

"You. actually  induced  him  to  go  home?" 

"He  has  gone,"  smiling.  "Sister  Clarinda  aided  me, 
a  wife's  influence,  you  know." 

Farquharson  wrinkled  his  forehead  knowingly. 

Together  they  returned  to  the  castle.  The  little  knot 
of  people  anxiously  gathered  around  them.  To  their 
excited  questionings  the  senora  replied:  "All's  well 
that  ends  well." 

"Your  meaning,  senora?"  asked  one. 

"That  we've  nothing  to  do  now — but  disperse  the 
fog." 

Senora  Valentino  went  to  an  upper  corner  of  the 
castle,  and  into  a  room  now  seldom  used.  It  had  once 
been  a  sentinel  chamber,  and  surveyed  harbor  and  sea. 
More  than  once  had  she  come  to  this  place,  time  permit 
ting,  to  revel  in  its  loneliness. 

To-day  the  fog  drew  dark  shades  over  the  windows, 
enveloping  the  room  in  twilight.  A  slow  wind  was 
blowing,  enough  to  move  the  casements.  This  augured 
well.  Afternoon  would,  more  than  likely,  see  clear  sky 
line. 

The  woman's  mood  was  to  be  alone.  Closing  the  old 
door  on  its  rusty  hinges  she  turned  the  grating  lock, 
and  looked  around  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction. 

The  former  governor  had  been  an  intimate  of  this 
room.  Here  he  would  steal  away  to  read  and  dream. 
The  furnishings  were  his,  and  he  had  not  seen  fit  tp 
disturb  them  when  leaving  for  Mexico.  On  shelves 


376     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

were  books  of  poems  and  romances.  On  the  floor  lay 
rugs  of  tasteful  pattern  and  coloring.  A  few  very  good 
pictures  were  on  the  wall,  while  an  easy  chair  or  two 
stood  invitingly.  On  one  side  jutted  a  stone  fireplace, 
a  pile  of  ashes  on  the  hearth  telling  its  own  story.  All 
these  things  were  strangely  out  of  keeping  with  the 
rest  of  the  castle. 

In  a  cupboard  the  senora  found  wood  and  paper  in 
abundance,  placed  there  by  the  former  governor,  mind 
ful  of  his  comfort. 

"I'm  cold,"  she  shivered.  "I'll  call  Lupincha"  and 
have  a  fire.  No,  I'll  build  it  myself." 

The  dry  fuel  and  the  paper,  ignited  by  a  flint  spark, 
soon  made  flames  that  roared  into  the  chimney. 

"Now  it  is  cheery  and  warm.  I'll  look  over  one  of 
Governor  Moncada's  romances  till  the  fleet  enters. 
Well,  here's  Don  Quixote.  He  won't  do — I've  fought 
windmills  myself — it's  monotonous.  And  here,  El  Cid. 
Not  to-day — more  heroics.  I  want  a  book  written 
about  life  as  it  is,  not  as  it  ought  to  be." 

She  took  up  a  manuscript,  "Ode  to  Falling  Rain," 
by  the  Governor  himself. 

"Senor  Moncada,  why  was  it  not  an  'Ode  to  a  Lift 
ing  Fog'?  Because  it  is  not,  into  the  fire  you  go,  you 
wrinkled  bit  of  paper.  Ah!  it  burns  well  despite  the 
title.  My  brother-in-law  once  spoke  of  the  governor 
as  a  fussy  old  curmudgeon.  It  would  be  interesting  to 
know  what  the  Senora  Moncada  thinks  of  the  Senor 
Barcelo." 

A  knock  interrupted  her  musing.  She  kept  perfectly 
quiet.  Again,  the  knock,  a  little  louder,  a  little  more 


BUT  YET  A  WOMAN  377 

insistent.  She  snuggled  closer  into  the  chair.  Suddenly 
the  thought  came  to  her  that  it  might  be  Farquharson 
with  some  message  of  importance.  She  quickly  unlocked 
the  door. 

"Senora  Valentino,  may  I  come  in?  The  peona 
Lupincha  told  me  I  would  find  you  here." 

"Certainly,  Captain  Morando,  come  in.  My  friends 
in  the  castle  are  variously  occupying  themselves  till  the 
great  moment  strikes.  I,"  looking  around,  "chose  to 
come  off  here  by  myself,"  her  manner  charmingly  cor 
dial. 

The  senora  was  again  in  her  chair.  The  comandante 
sat  opposite.  There  was  silence,  each  seeming  to  find 
nothing  to  say  to  the  other. 

Under  the  firelight  the  dona  appeared  more  beautiful 
than  ever,  her  form  unusually  petite  and  girlish.  To 
the  soldier  she  had  been  a  piece  of  exquisite  workman 
ship,  cameo-cut,  a  rare  jewel  to  be  admired.  To-day 
she  was  this,  plus  woman's  sweetness  and  gentleness. 
His  heart  gave  an  appreciative  throb. 

"Silvia,"  abruptly,  "will  you  be  my  wife?" 

She  flashed  her  eyes  at  him.  "Captain,  it  is  curious, 
isn't  it?  about  most  people.  They  roll  along  in  their 
groove,  at  about  the  same  speed,  and  reach  a  certain 
point  at  a  certain  time,  regularly  enough.  Have  you 
ever  thought  of  it?" 

"Well,  no — or,  perhaps,  yes." 

"In  the  old  stories  the  chapters  end  with  the  proposal, 
the  puppets  are  disposed  of,  the  book  closed.  You 
have,  then,  reached  this  point?" 

"But,  Silvia,  you  and  I  have  been  so  frank  that  noth- 


378     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

ing  preliminary  seemed  left  for  me  to  say — if  that  is 
what  you  mean — so  I  asked  the  question  as  I  did.  I 
vow  to  you  by  my  manhood " 

She  stood  before  him. 

"Captain  Morando,  it  was  love  for  an  ideal  man  that 
really  brought  me  to  California." 

"Senora,  I  did  not  know "  also  rising. 

"No.  You  did  not  know,"  her  lips  hardening  ever  so 
little.  "Yes,  an  ideal.  Him  I  love  with  my  heart,  my 
soul ;  every  energy  I  have.  Gladly  would  I  live  for  him. 
Equally  gladly  would  I  die  for  him." 

"Then,  senora,  there  is  no  room  in  your  life  for  me? 
Another  fills  it?  Why,  I  thought— I  believed " 

"You  thought !  you  believed !    O,  Alfredo  !" 

"You  have  never  cared  for  me.  You  never  can  care. 
You " 

"Do  not  trouble  either  of  us  with  further  question 
ing.  I  answer,  No,  I  do  not  care  for  you — have  never 
cared  for  you." 

"Senora,  even  but  now  I  dared  think " 

"Dare  think  nothing!" 

"Then,  Dona  Silvia,  I  erred,  that  is  all.  My  inten 
tions  were  worthy.  You  never  intimated  to  me  anything 
of  this — this  affection.  I  step  out  of  the  way  of  this 
other  whom  you  so  fully  love.  May  you  be  happy, 
and  may  he  endow  your  life  with  all  joy.  I  leave  you 
now." 

"No,  Alfredo,  not  yet,"  her  voice  shaking  a  little. 
"Do  you  not  know  who  it  is  that  has  impersonated  my 
ideal?" 

"No,  I  do  not  know." 


BUT  YET  A  WOMAN  379 

"And  can  you  not  even  conjecture?"  a  little  wistfully. 

"How  could  I?" 

"You  are  right.  How  could  you?"  with  an  enigmatic 
smile. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  penetratingly  appraising 
gaze. 

"I  will  enlighten  you.  It  is  you — you — Senor  Captain 
Morando — you !" 

"I  ?" 

"Yes.  I  tried  to  cheat  myself.  I  lied  to  myself  about 
you.  I  kept  you  on  a  pedestal  for  my  worshiping. 
You,  Captain  Morando,  are  nothing  to  me,  but  the 
man,  the  ideal  man,  whom  I  hoped  was  inclosed  in  that 
goodly  form  of  yours,  he  it  is  whom  I  love."  Her  tones 
were  low  and  even. 

"Senora,  it  is  to  me  a  regret  that  your  ideal  has  been 
so  misplaced." 

"It  is  but  one  more  link  in  that  chain  of  disillusion 
ment — my  life.  I  suppose  I  should  not  complain. 
What  does  it  matter?"  Her  words  betokened  a  resig 
nation  which  her  glowing  eyes  did  not  verify. 

The  Captain  moved  his  chair  closer  to  her  and  took 
her  hand. 

"Senora,  though  disillusionment  has  passed  me  by, 
disappointment  has  not.  Let  us  make  common  cause, 
and  fight  the  battle  of  life  together.  Wounds  quiver 
and  smart  in  the  past  of  both  of  us.  Why  not  let  the 
future  in  years  of  devotion  each  to  the  other,  bring 
consoling  balm  to  these  wounds  ?" 

Her  hand  remained  in  his,  but  she  did, not  speak. 

"Senora — Silvia — let  us  go  away  from  here,  and,  in 


380     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

the  quiet  of  home  life,  let  time  do  its  work  in  scattering 
into  forgetfulness  the  ashes  of  old  heartburnings." 

"And  what  of  my  lost  ideal,  Alfredo?" 

"Seiiora  dona,  theory  is  one  thing,  fact  another; 
and  life  is  fact.  Why  not  accept  things  as  they 
are?" 

"Many  would  say  you  speak  well.  And  yet — rather 
than  sacrifice  my  ideal  would  I  choose  to  sleep  forever 
at  the  bottom  of  the  sea." 

"Senora,  do  you  believe  that  ideals  are  ever  realized 
in  this  world?" 

"Perhaps  not.  But,  to  come  from  abstract  thought 
to  concrete  application.  When  the  seiiorita  of  the 
window  pane  looked  down  on  the  parade  ground  facing 
old  Pilar  Convent  the  place  widened  into  fields  of  con 
quest.  The  flashing  sword  in  the  hand  of  her  cadet- 
officer  became  a  marshal's  baton,  the  sword-belt,  a 
viceroy's  sash.  Her  eaglet  would  fly  straight-winged 
into  the  face  of  the  sun.  Though  storms  above  the 
clouds  might  whirl  him  like  a  dried  and  broken  branch, 
and  hurl  him  back  to  earth,  yet  ever  upward  would  be 
his  purpose.  Don  Alfredo,  have  you  ever  tried  your 
wings?  Don't  speak,  soldier.  I  will  answer  for  you. 
Like  the  pet  chick,  pinions  folded,  have  you  been  content 
with  hopping  fences — the  eaglet-cadet  a  village  com- 
andante." 

"I  am  fulfilling  my  duty  to  the  best  of  my  ability." 

She  drew  her  hand  away,  and  looked  him  squarely  in 
the  face. 

"Fulfilling  duty !  Alfredo,  you  exhaust  my  patience. 
I  have  power ;  I  have  influence,  I  have  standing  at  the 


BUT  YET  A  WOMAN  381 

court  of  Saint  James.  Under  Lord  Aberdeen's  written 
promise  to  me,  would  he  make  high  place  for  you  in 
Europe,  or  in  vast  India.  You  yawned.  My  offer  was 
unconsidered. 

"A  strange  contempt  for  opportunity  seems  ever  to 
have  been  your  make-up.  As  in  manhood,  so  in  your 
youth.  Alfredo,  during  those  three  years  at  Pilar  you 
blew  a  kiss  to  me  from  the  parade  ground;  or,  was  it 
twice?  or,  perhaps  thrice?  or,  even  more.  A  va 
liant  conquistador-in-the-making,  disregarding  barrier, 
would  have  reached  the  topmost  span  of  that  forbidding 
cloister,  to  salute  the  lips  of  the  watching  maiden  at 
closer  range  than  fifty  paces. 

"But  to  return  to  later  times.  If  Britain  possesses 
California,  a  viceroyship  must  go  to  some  one.  You 
shrugged  when  I  spoke  of  tossing  it  to  you;  yet,  it  is 
a  catch  for  which  many  an  ambitious  caballero  would 
stretch  ready  hands." 

"I  am  not  ambition's  fool,  neither  am  I  without  am 
bition.  If  I  rise,  my  own  feet  shall  lift  me,  step  by 
step,"  in  his  voice  a  ring  of  challenge. 

"In  other  words,  you  prefer  to  protect  the  flocks  of 
rich  herdsmen  against  marauding  aborigine — if  not 
in  California,  elsewhere.  No?" 

"Silvia,  let  us  cease  this  exchange  of  words.  We  have 
much  in  common.  Come  with  me.  Be  my  household 
queen.  In  coming  here  to-day  not  the  least  in  my 
thought  was  the  wish  to  take  you  away  from  the  politics 
of  the  world.  Come,  Silvia,  come." 

"And,  over  there — in  the  distance — beyond  the 
shadows — would  be  my  ideal  calling  to  me,  chiding  me, 


382     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

telling  me  of  my  unfaithfulness.  No,  Alfredo,  I  lie  to 
myself  no  longer. 

"The  other  morning,  as  I  left  your  official  sitting 
room  in  San  Jose,  the  King's  Highway  to  Monterey 
became  another  road  to  Damascus.  The  scales  fell 
from  my  eyes,  as  they  did  from  Saul  of  Tarsus.  I 
cursed  myself  for  the  lie  to  which  I  had  sworn  in  the 
sanctuary  of  my  soul — the  lie  making  you,  Alfredo 
Morando,  the  personification  of  my  ideal. 

"I  lashed  my  horse.  I  wished — I  even  prayed — that 
the  beast  might  spring  to  the  rocky  depths  of  the  canon 
at  my  side,  that  I  might  find  release  in  the  parting 
of  my  body  and  its  soul." 

"Senora  Valentino,  the  artist  sometimes  so  arranges 
the  lights  and  shades  on  his  sitter  that  he  brings  in 
relief  certain  lineaments  to  the  obscuring  of  others, 
producing,  often,  a  fancy  picture  rather  than  a  por 
trait.  Your  delineation  of  my  character,  emphasizing 
certain  points,  neglecting  others,  seems  to  be  hardly 
fair.  But,  dona,  I  scorn  the  pleader's  place.  I  admit 
my  unworthiness.  Your  word,  then — is  final?"  arising 
and  taking  up  his  cap,  dignity  vesting  speech  and 
manner. 

"Yes,  Alfredo,  final — final.  Go,  continue  to  be  a 
comandante-protector  of  sheep.  Gallop  across  the 
plains  to  Mission  San  Jose.  Improvise  dawdling  love- 
songs,  twangle  the  guitar,  and  strut  about  by  the  light 
of  the  moon.  The  Seilorita  de  la  Mendoza  may  again 
dance  El  Son,  to  bring  you  to  her  side.  No  longer 
will  I  keep  you  from  her,  with  the  vain  hope  that,  in 
the  capitals  of  the  nations,  you  and  I,  uniting  our  men- 


BUT  YET  A  WOMAN  383 

talities  and  working  hand  in  hand,  might  have  no  small 
part  in  the  history-making  of  our  generation.  Good-by, 
Alfredo."  She  extended  her  hand. 

"Good-by,  Silvia." 

He  opened  the  door  and  hesitated  at  the  threshold. 

"Sefiora,  once  more,  is  it  final?" 

The  color,  faded  from  her  face.  Her  features  set  in 
emotionless  expression. 

"Yes,  Alfredo— yes." 


Over  the  sea  strong  wind  flowed.  Bank  after  bank 
of  fog,  rocked  under  powerful  propulsion,  was  lifted 
into  the  air,  and  disappeared.  Finally,  from  Point 
Pinos  to  Santa  Cruz  the  waters  laughed  and  sparkled 
in  the  late-coming  sun.  Eleven  men-of-war  were  dis 
closed  in  the  outer  harbor,  their  wilderness  of  spars 
clustering  beneath  the  Union  Jack. 

Within  the  inner  harbor  two  smaller  vessels  were  at 
anchor,  the  springs  in  their  cables  allowing  them  to 
swing  end  to  end  in  the  shifting  tides.  On  their  decks 
grim-visaged  men  stood  at  the  guns.  Their  masts  were 
tipped  with  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

The  frigate  United  States  and  the  sloop-of-war 
Cyane  had  warped  off  the  bar  of  Half  Moon  Bay. 
Under  cover  of  night,  and  undeterred  by  danger,  they 
had  slipped  past  the  English  fleet  which  was  nodding 
lazily  in  the  smooth  sea,  awaiting  the  coming  of  dawn 


384     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

and  the  clearing  of  the  fog.  Into  the  harbor,  up  to 
the  very  eyes  of  the  castle,  they  came. 

With  the  sun's  unveiling  American  marines  rushed 
into  boats,  hurried  ashore  and  took  possession  of  the 
city.  The  Red,  White  and  Blue  snapped  saucily  over 
plaza  and  fort. 

Signals  fluttered  on  Admiral  Fairbanks's  flagship, 
whipping  the  air  in  persistent  command.  In  reluctant 
obedience  the  warships,  for  the  second  time,  wheeled 
slowly  back  to  the  ocean,  the  Vanguard  in  the  rear,  like 
a  stern  parent  driving  his  half-rebellious  brood  before 
him. 

In  the  upper  room  of  the  castle  Silvia  Valentino  was 
cognizant  of  none  of  these  things.  In  the  moment  of 
Captain  Morando's  departure  she  had  thrown  herself, 
face  downward,  on  the  floor,  and  lay  weeping  out  her 
heart. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  DE  LA  MENDOZA 

"T>EPITA,  Pepita,  be  thou  watchful  of  those 
A  threads.  Red  follows  yellow  in  the  pattern,  else 
jour  weaving  is  hit-or-miss.  Santa  Maria !  What 
careless  fingers !  See,  the  blanket  is  streaked  in  color, 
like  a  pinto  horse.  Thy  knuckles,  careless  one,  should 
be  made  to  ache,  by  rapping  them  smartly." 

"Thou  wilt  rap  no  knuckles  of  mine,  Marta.  Padre 
Osuna  forbids  the  matrona  to  strike  any  neophyte  girl, 
as  thou  well  knowest.  It's  hard  enough  to  sit  at  a  loom 
day  after  day  and  weave  blankets,  when  one  isn't  mend 
ing  them,  or  making  baskets,  or  grinding  maize,  with 
out  being  beaten,  if  the  fingers  play  tricks  when  the 
thought  happens  elsewhere." 

Marta  was  a  matrona  of  the  department  of  neophytes 
in  the  single  women's  quarter  of  the  Mission  San  Jose. 
Her  specialty  was  weaving  blankets.  The  Mission  sheep 
provided  wool  in  plenty,  and  hand-made  looms  pre 
pared  it  for  use,  after  it  had  been  dyed  the  many 
colors  dear  to  the  Indian  taste. 

"Fingers  play  tricks  when  the  mind  is  elsewhere! 
Well-a-day!  Why  has  one  a  mind  but  to  direct  the 
fingers  and  the  feet?  If  Pedro  Carrasca's  mind  ever 

385 


386     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

rests  on  thee,  when  it  should  be  on  cattle-driving,  be 
hold!  his  pony  will  throw  him  over  its  head  into  the 
dry  oats." 

A  general  laugh  followed  from  the  Indian  women  and 
girls. 

It  was  the  Mission's  busy  season.  The  harvest  had 
been  abundant.  Though  late  in  coming  the  rains  had 
been  plentiful,  and  at  proper  intervals,  so  that  the 
yield  in  wheat,  barley,  oats,  and  corn  was  scarcely 
below  a  good  average.  Padre  Osuna  had  sent  a  vessel 
laden  with  cereals  to  Lower  California,  where  bread 
grains  were  scanty  and  good-priced.  A  schooner  char 
tered  at  Yerba  Buena  had  many  thousand  bushels  of 
seed-wheat  on  board,  ready  to  sail  to  the  settlements  in 
Oregon,  when  a  reliable  supercargo  was  found  who 
knew  enough  English  to  deal  with  the  Americanos  in  the 
North. 

The  great  matanza  of  the  year  had  just  been  held. 
A  half  dozen  trading  ships  were  in  San  Francisco  Bay, 
buying  the  Mission  hides  and  tallow.  Sovereignties 
might  change,  flags  come  and  go,  but  trade  went  on 
forever. 

The  Mission's  needs  for  the  year  were  supplied  from 
the  "Boston"  ships,  in  return  for  the  commodities  of  the 
Mission.  In  New  England  a  demand  had  sprung  up 
for  the  varicolored  blankets  made  from  California  wool 
by  the  Indians.  Nowhere  were  blankets  more  skillfully 
or  more  durably  made  than  at  Mission  San  Jose.  Ac 
cordingly,  a  large  order  had  come  from  an  Eastern 
supply  house;  and  the  Mission  Indian  women  and  girls 
worked  longer  hours  than  usual  at  the  wooden  frames. 


A  DAUGHTER  387 

These  had  been  set  up  out  of  doors  near  the  lodgment 
of  the  unmarried  women. 

Pepita's  eyes  sparkled  as  the  others  laughed. 

"Pedro  Carrasca  is  no  concern  of  mine." 

"Well,  maybe  not,"  returned  Marta,  her  black  eyes 
twinkling  in  her  lean  face.  "When  the  padre  inspects 
the  blanket  under  your  hand,  if  he  sees  poor  work  he  will 
scarcely  sanction  your  betrothal  to  Pedro,  one  of  the 
best  lads  in  the  valley,  as  well  as  a  vaquero  of  vaqueros ; 
and  Pepita,"  patronizingly,  "you  can  do  good  work 
when  you  try." 

"There  are  other  vaqueros  besides  Pedro  Carrasca." 

"Right  you  are,  Pepita.  Felix  Ubaldo  is  a  better 
rider  than  Pedro.  Pedro's  shoulders  are  not  always 
straight  in  the  saddle,"  said  Florida  Pardo. 

"No  such  thing,"  defended  Pepita.  "When  the 
broncho  bucks,  Felix  goes  up  and  down  like  the  jump 
ing- jacks  the  little  boys  get  for  Christmas." 

"Come,  come,  children,  work,  work.  Talk  less,"  from 
the  matrona. 

Pepita  stamped  her  foot.  "Work,  work  all  the  time. 
Why  was  I  not  born  a  senorita,  with  people  to  serve 
me,  instead  of  having  to  work  every  day  like  an  ox 
drawing  a  carreta  full  of  stones?" 

"Saints  in  heaven !"  from  Marta.  "A  crow  isn't  born 
a  songster,  because  crows  have  a  use  as  well  as  singing 
birds.  Pepita,  thou  art  a  blackamoor;  still,  thou  may 
become  a  peona  of  the  Senorita  Mendoza.  Modesta, 
her  serving  maid,  marries  soon  Tomaso,  peon  captain." 

"O,  Marta,  is  the  Senorita  Carmelita  thinking  of 
making  me  one  of  her  peonas?  How  I  would  like 


388     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOS£ 

that !  Will  you  not  ask  the  padre  to  recommend  me  to 
the  Senor  Mendoza  for  his  household?"  The  girl  got 
up  and  put  her  arm  wheedlingly  about  the  woman. 

"I'll  tell  thee,  Pepita,  Modesta's  my  niece,  and  I 
know  of  what  I  speak  when  I  give  you  word  of  happen 
ings  at  the  great  hacienda  house." 

The  matrona  folded  her  arms.  The  clicking  of  the 
looms  was  stilled.  Indian  maid  and  wife  were  as  ready 
to  hear  the  gossip  as  was  Marta  to  tell  it. 

"Last  Saint  John's  day  the  quality  of  Santa  Clara 
valley  attended  high  mass  here.  As  you  remember,  Lady 
Carmelita  played  the  organ.  Padre  Osuna  alone  ex 
cels  her.  The  Indian  choir  sang,  and — Pepita,  thou 
sang  well  enough.  I  will  say,  Senorita  Mendoza  was 
much  taken  with  thy  solo  part.  But  do  not  overpride 
thyself.  Thy  voice,  like  thy  good  looks,  is  but  a  gift 
to  thee,  not  of  thine  own  making." 

"Tell  us  the  story,"  the  girl  urged. 

"Well,  many  white  people  had  midday  meal  at  Senor 
Mendoza's.  Padre  Osuna  did  not  go,  though  he  was 
invited.  You  see,  our  padre  and  the  senor  speak  when 
they  meet,  and  seem  friendly,  but " 

"O,  Marta,  I  don't  want  to  hear  about  that.  Tell 
what  was  said  about  me  at  the  meal." 

"Don't  want  to  hear — don't  want  to  hear,"  repeated 
the  matrona.  "Well,  I  shall  say  nothing  at  all,  if  I'm 
not  to  speak  my  own  way." 

"Go  on,  Marta,"  cried  several,  nearly  as  eager  as 
Pepita. 

The  matrona  enjoyed  their  impatience  for  a  while, 
affecting  to  be  very  busy  over  her  loom.  At  last — 


A  DAUGHTER  339 

"At  that  midday  meal  Senorita  Carmelita  said  she 
had  heard  you,  Pepita,  sing,  and  liked  your  voice 
as  well  as  Modesta's;  that  she  would  soon  need  a  new 
lady's  maid  and  liked  your  appearance.  Then,  Seno 
rita  Galindo  said  she  once  had  you  for  lady's  maid,  but 
sent  you  back  to  the  neophyte  house,  because  you  lis 
tened  at  keyholes  and  talked  too  much." 

"I  did  not.     I  did  not,"  asserted  Pepita. 

"What  did  you  do,  then?"  queried  Marta. 

"I  didn't  do  anything." 

"But  thy  tongue,  vixen,  is  often  loose,  as  if  hung  in 
the  middle,  to  wag  at  both  ends.  Come  now,  what  didst 
thou  say  when  thou  talkedst  too  much?" 

"I  knew  Senorita  Galindo  was  in  love  with  Don 
Abelardo  Peralta,  and  that  he  was  not  with  her.  When 
she  pinched  my  arm  for  pulling  her  hair  as  I  combed  it, 
I  told  her  that  Senor  Peralta  was  in  love  with  a  lady  in 
Monterey,  Senora  Valentino." 

"What  did  the  Senorita  Galindo  say  to  that?" 

"She  pinched  my  arm  more,  and  boxed  my  ears  till  I 
cried;  then  sent  me  to  Padre  Osuna  all  covered  with 
lies."  Pepita  spat  at  the  remembrance. 

The  women  turned  to  their  looms  again.  Marta 
walked  around  examining  their  work,  admonishing,  en 
couraging  or  assisting. 

"Draw  the  threads  tighter,  Josefa.  Pull  them 
equally,  not  one  looser  than  the  others.  Calvia,  use 
sense;  your  weave  is  uneven." 

Passing  her  own  loom  she  said:  "This  is  a  design 
after  which  many  blankets  were  made  for  Constancia 
Alvarado,  she  who  married  Senor  Mendoza.  The 


390     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOS£ 

senor's  hair,  then,  was  as  black  as  any  of  yours.  Don 
Marcel  Hernandez  has  ordered  six  of  each  of  these 
patterns.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  means  his  daughter 
is  going  to  marry.  My  man  went  to  Spain  once  with 
Sefior  Hernandez,  to  bring  back  horses. 

"Tula,  hasten,  thy  loom  moves  slowly,  as  if  tired. 
Wait  till  noon  before  resting.  Very  good,  Encarna- 
cion ;  the  best  you've  done.  And  thou,  too,  Jesusa." 

As  the  matrona  came  to  Pepita's  side  she  said  in  low 
voice :  "Girl,  worry  thou  not.  Soon  another  takes  thy 
loom  and  thou  goest  to  service  with  the  Lady  Carmelita, 
without  doubt.  The  padre  will  make  recommend  of 
thee ;  but  remember  his  words  in  last  Sunday's  sermon : 
'Have  a  care  as  to  what  thou  seest,  what  thou  hearest, 
and  what  thou  sayest.'  " 

"I  am  not  the  only  one  that  talks  too  much." 

Marta  recalled  something  to  be  done  inside  the  house 
and  went  away,  telling  the  weavers  to  be  industrious 
during  her  absence. 

When  she  was  out  of  sight  Encarnacion  strolled  over 
to  the  end  loom.  "Marta  has  pride  that  Padre  Majin 
de  Catala,  of  Mission  Santa  Clara,  baptized  her  mother. 
Padre  Junipero  Serra  himself  baptized  my  grandfather, 
in  San  Diego  Mission.  Padre  Junipero  always  said 
that  Indians  who  work  hard  and  pray  the  Virgin  every 
day  would  be  high  in  heaven  when  they  died.  I  never 
heard  he  said  that  of  lady's  maids,"  looking  at  Pepita. 

Pepita  was  happy  in  anticipation,  and  so  made  no 
reply. 

"Last  year,  when  I  was  at  Yerba  Buena,  in  the  family 
of  Sefior  Arguello,"  said  Jesusa,  whose  loom  had  be- 


A  DAUGHTER  391 

come  silent  the  moment  of  Marta's  departure,  "a  very 
old  man  at  Mission  Dolores  said  the  sea  did  not  always 
run  in  and  out  there,  past  Yerba  Buena,  but  mountains 
once  were  where  ships  sail  now.  I  asked  him  if  white 
men  had  dug  the  way  for  the  ocean,  and  he  said  white 
men  never  work."  Jesusa  was  proud  of  her  temporary 
residence  in  Yerba  Buena,  and  brought  it  forward  at 
every  opportunity. 

"Will  the  white  men,  then,  who  are  not  .padres,  go  to 
heaTen?"  inquired  Tula,  who  had  abandoned  her  work. 

The  theology  of  none  of  them  was  equal  to  a  reply 
for  this  question. 

"Where  do  you  suppose  all  the  peon  soldiers  have 
gone?  I  saw  many,  many  marching  away  this  morning, 
Senor  Mendoza  leading  them.  San  Jose  de  Guadalupe ! 
but  they  looked  handsome !"  said  Elasia,  a  girl  who  had 
seated  herself  on  the  ground,  her  hands  lying  idly  in 
her  lap. 

"Oho !  the  peon  Ildefranco  alone  didst  thou  see.  We 
know,"  said  some  one. 

"Yes,  yes,"  joined  in  others. 

"You  have  no  need  to  talk.  You  were  all  watching 
them,  and  with  your  mouths  wide  open.  I  saw  you," 
retorted  Elasia. 

Everyone  began  to  laugh. 

"Comes  Marta !  Comes  Marta !"  cried  Encarnacion 
from  her  point  of  vantage. 

There  was  a  general  scurrying  to  place.  When  the 
matrona  came  out  the  silence  was  too  intense  to  be 
sincere.  She  went  from  loom  to  loom. 

*Your  work  is  short  by  many  inches  of  what  it  should 


392     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOS& 

be.  If  your  chili  con  carne  and  meal  were  to  be  as  short 
to-day  you  would  go  hungry,  and  deserve  it  too.  I  have 
a  mind  to  tell  the  padre  how  shiftless  you  all  are,  and 
that  unless  I  stand  over  you,  not  one  of  you  will  work." 

"She's  willing  enough  for  us  to  stop  work  if  she  has 
some  tale  to  tell  us  about  what  Modesto  heard;  but  if 
we  stop  a  minute  to  breathe,  at  any  other  time,  it's  dif 
ferent,"  whispered  one  to  her  nearest  companion,  when 
Marta's  face  was  in  another  direction. 

The  noon  Angelus  commenced  ringing. 

The  looms  were  at  once  deserted. 

In  the  neophyte  house  lived  over  two  hundred  Indian 
girls  who  were  taught  to  read  Spanish,  together  with 
such  housecraft  as  a  peona  should  know,  while  the  music 
of  the  church  occupied  no  small  part  in  the  daily  cur 
riculum.  In  addition,  the  neophytes  were  instructed  in 
weaving,  in  embroidery,  drawn  work,  lace-making;  and 
from  among  them  came  the  seamstresses  who  made 
elaborate  gowns  for  the  ladies  of  the  Spanish  gentry. 

Talking  was  not  allowed  during  meals.  A  book,  gen 
erally  the  life  of  some  saint,  was  read  aloud  by  a  ma- 
trona,  or  by  some  girl  who  was  capable.  To-day  the 
book  had  been  finished  early.  There  was  not  time  to 
begin  another,  so  the  rule  of  silence  was  dispensed  with 
during  the  remainder  of  dinner.  The  girls  proceeded 
to  enjoy  the  unwonted  privilege,  their  zest  for  eating, 
however,  in  no  wise  diminished. 

Suddenly,  pandemonium  burst  over  the  place.  Indian 
warwhoops  were  mingled  with  the  crash  of  musket- 
firing.  Yelling  and  shouting  were  punctuated  with  pis 
tol  shots.  The  tawny  mastiffs,  night  guardians  of  the 


A  DAUGHTER  393 

patio,  now  confined  in  a  rear  yard,  howled  a  vicious  pro 
test  against  this  noonday  interruption  of  their  sleep. 

Indian  horsemen  hurled  themselves  down  the  hills. 
Indian  forms  arose  from  the  ground  where  they  had 
hidden  in  shelter  of  vineyard  and  olive  grove,  and  ava- 
lanched  on  the  Mission. 

Mounted  renegades  whirled  around  the  buildings, 
cutting  off  avenues  of  escape  for  those  within.  Men 
on  foot  forced  the  porter's  lodge  in  front,  while  others 
rushed  through  the  artisans'  shops  in  the  rear. 

Padre  Osuna,  Juan  Antonio,  major-domo,  and  nearly 
every  able-bodied  peon  of  the  Mission  were  busy  with 
the  trading  ships  lying  at  the  Embarcadero  two  leagues 
away,  on  the  south  arm  of  San  Francisco  Bay.  The 
institution  was  defenseless  before  the  invaders,  who  were 
under  the  capable  command  of  a  stocky,  strongly  built 
aborigihe  who  sat  on  his  horse  in  the  road  which  ran 
alongside  of  the  house  of  the  girl  neophytes. 

"Bring  up  the  led  horses,"  'the  chief  had  ordered  when 
the  uproar  was  greatest. 

The  screaming  of  frightened  women  broke  out  in 
shrill  notes,  accompanied  by  the  furious  baying  of  the 
mastiffs  straining  at  their  chains. 

A  shot  or  two  sounded  in  the  patio. 

"Some  of  the  women  have  got  behind  the  gratings  and 
are  shooting  at  their  wooers,"  half  laughed,  half 
grunted  the  leader. 

"Stanislaus,"  asked  a  man  near  him,  "can  our  fellows 
get  into  this  place  where  the  girls  are?  At  Monterey 
they  are  behind  doors  you  couldn't  smash  with  an  ax 
in  half  a  day." 


394     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Cayetano,"  was  the  reply,  "I  was  major-domo  here 
for  years.  The  task  set  for  those  of  us  sent  inside  is 
easy.  The  peonas  are  spunky,"  he  continued,  "  but 
they'll  be  the  better  wives  in  the  wild  hills  we  go  to.  If 
the  enemy  comes,  our  tepees  will  not  be  undefended  in 
our  absence." 

Indians  carrying  struggling  neophyte  peonas  filled 
the  porch  of  the  house.  They  sprang  to  the  ground 
below  and  upon  the  backs  of  the  waiting  mounts.  Soon 
two  hundred  horses  were  bearing  double  burdens. 

"Any  more  to  come?"  called  Stanislaus. 

"No,"  from  a  lieutenant  who  had  been  in  charge  of 
the  inside  squad. 

"Our  way  of  finding  wives  may  not  please  the 
padre,  but  it's  the  only  resource  left  us,"  said  the 
chief. 

"It's  a  quicker  method  than  the  padre's,"  returned 
the  lieutenant,  "and  we're  sure  of  our  own  pick." 

"Now  to  the  hills !"  commanded  the  leader,  adding : 
"When  Padre  Osuna  trails  us  home  he  can  perform  a 
hundred  double  weddings  at  once." 

The  raiders  spurred  away  eastward.  Some  of  the 
girls,  inert  from  fear,  made  no  movement  in  their  cap 
tors'  arms,  others  continued  screaming  and  struggling. 
Shortly  their  cries  died  away  in  the  distance,  and  the 
desolated  Mission  was  left  to  the  wailing  matronas  and 
the  old  peons  whose  resistance  had  been  too  feeble  to 
attract  notice  from  the  marauders. 

As  unexpectedly  as  had  the  tumult  begun  across  the 
way,  a  clanging  sounded  from  the  topmost  tower  of 
Mendoza's  hacienda  house.  It  was  an  iron  bar  striking 


A  DAUGHTER  395 

witk  lightning  rapidity  the  rim  of  a  bell  suspended  in 
the  tower.  Three  strokes  a  second  it  supplied,  under 
nicely  arranged  mechanism  of  block  and  pulley. 

The  clamor  aroused  every  peon  on  the  Mendoza 
grant,  for  that  call  meant  each  task  must  be  left  without 
delay,  and  all  speed  made  to  the  hacienda  house,  as  if 
in  matter  of  death  and  life. 

Peons  rushed  from  the  Arroyo  Seco,  leagues  to  the 
north,  leaving  their  herds  without  caretakers.  Plow- 
meM  in  the  soft  vegetable  fields  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Arroyo  Alameda  flung  the  traces  upon  the  horses' 
backs,  and  galloped  the  heavy  work  animals  toward 
Mission  San  Jose. 

Sturgeon-catchers  in  the  far-away  Alviso  marshes 
withheld  the  spear  as  their  boat  floated  above  the  rotund 
quarry.  "Ding,  dong,  ding,"  the  hills  were  faintly 
echoing.  The  fishermen  knew  their  duty,  and  straight 
way  discarding  implement  and  fish,  they  pushed  their 
mustangs  helter-skelter  through  slough  and  marsh  to 
their  master's  home  ten  miles  distant. 

Carmelita  Mendoza  stood  in  her  father's  bell  tower, 
her  hand  firmly  pressing  a  lever.  This  lever  controlled 
the  heavy  tongue  striking  the  call  to  rescue.  The  girl 
had  witnessed  from  her  window  the  attack  on  the  Mis 
sion;  had  seen  the  renegades  ride  away  with  the  stolen 
neophyte  girls. 

Stanislaus  had  considered  the  time  well,  knowing  that 
Mendoza  and  his  men  were  absent,  as  also  Padre  Osuna. 
After  the  fall  of  Yoscolo  and  the  severe  defeat  of  his 
men,  the  rancheros  had  thought  the  wild  Indians  too 
thoroughly  cowed  to  attempt  further  depredations; 


396     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOS& 

thus  all  had  relaxed  vigilance,  especially  in  the  day 
time. 

The  chief  felt  so  secure  that  he  sat  on  his  horse 
openly  in  the  street  during  the  raid.  The  dona  could 
hear  him  jesting  about  the  Indian  girls,  and  caught  the 
words  of  his  lieutenant.  She  was  an  excellent  marks 
man.  Her  rifle,  a  recent  importation  from  London,  was 
in  a  rack  near  at  hand.  She  sighted  the  weapon  at  the 
chief,  saw  his  face  aligned  with  the  barrel,  and  knew 
that  a  pressure  on  the  trigger  would  send  a  bullet 
through  his  body.  Her  hand  refused  to  perform  the 
office.  She  dropped  the  rifle  to  the  hollow  of  her  arm. 
Faint  for  the  moment,  she  leaned  against  the  window 
casing. 

The  outlaws  streaming  over  the  porch  of  the  neophyte 
house  to  the  ground,  together  with  the  cries  of  the 
peonas,  aroused  her.  Again  she  trained  the  rifle  on 
Stanislaus.  Though  not  more  than  a  hundred  feet  away 
he  was  too  intent  on  the  work  at  hand  to  scent  possi 
bility  of  peril.  Carmelita's  fingers  drew  on  the  trigger. 
The  slightest  pressure  further  and  the  chieftain  would 
fall  to  an  unhallowed  death  before  the  gate  of  the  Mis 
sion  which  once  had  honored  him. 

She  threw  the  gun  from  her  in  horror.  Stanislaus 
himself  did  not  hesitate  at  the  shedding  of  blood ;  and 
was  even  now  ready  to  inflict  death  if  necessary  to  the 
success  of  his  plans,  yet  she  could  not  bring  herself  to 
be  his  executioner. 

The  girl  flew  to  the  bell-tower.  As  the  summons  rang 
she  saw  the  retreating  miscreants  stretching  over  the 
brow  of  the  hill  directly  back  of  Mission  San  Jose. 


A  DAUGHTER  397 

The  men  with  the  girls  were  ahead  in  compact  body,  the 
other  Indians  spread  out  to  check  pursuit  if  any  should 
be  attempted. 

In  the  Mendoza  house  the  disorder  was  second  only 
to  that  prevailing  at  the  Mission.  Women  were  crying, 
praying,  and  calling  aloud  for  the  Senor  Mendoza, 
while  the  few  men  servants  on  the  grounds  ran  hither 
and  thither,  catching  up  weapons,  throwing  them  down, 
only  to  pick  them  up  again  and  continue  in  their  pur 
poseless  meanderings. 

The  peons  of  the  rancho  began  arriving.  By  twos, 
threes,  tens  and  scores  they  came.  Bows,  scythes  and 
clubs  were  the  arms  of  war  they  brought.  Their  ex 
cited  wives  and  children,  straggling  in  after  them,  in 
creased  the  tumult. 

The  watch  dogs  of  the  Mission  barked  with  renewed 
vigor.  The  Mission  Indians,  thinking  the  hacienda 
house  was  being  plundered  also,  wailed  yet  louder  in 
their  fright.  Some  of  the  peonas  swa3Ted  hysterically 
into  the  street  and  up  to  the  front  of  the  hacienda  gate, 
followed  by  the  elderly  peons  who  swung  in  circles 
chanting  wordless  rhythms.  Frightened  horses  tore 
unnoticed  through  the  yard,  snorting  in  terror. 

At  last  the  bell  was  silent. 

Carmelita  came  to  the  courtyard  gate.  The  uncanny 
movements  of  the  frantic  men  and  women  were  dizzying, 
but  she  steadied  herself. 

"Hear  me,"  she  called.     "Listen !" 

She  waited  a  moment,  then  began :  "Amigos,  Stanis 
laus  and  his  men  have  come  in  from  their  fastnesses, 
and  have  taken  away  from  the  Mission  many  girls. 


398     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

These  girls  are  daughters  of  our  friends,  and  we  desire 
to  see  them  married  to  men  of  this  valley,  the  honest 
men  who  tend  herds  and  till  the  soil,  and  who  will 
provide  food  in  plenty  for  their  families.  The  chief 
will  take  the  peonas  off  to  the  mountains  of  San  Jacinto 
or  San  Bernardino,  as  I  overheard.  Friends  mine,  men 
of  this,  our  beloved  valley,  you  must  skim  over  the 
mountains  like  hawks,  overtake  these  ravishers,  and 
bring  back  the  girls  to  their  peaceful  home  in  the 
neophyte  house,  that  our  valley  and  Mission  sleep  »ot 
desolate  to-night." 

There  was  no  response.  The  strong  hearts  had 
followed  Mendoza  away  at  sunrise.  There  re 
mained  but  the  hewers  of  wood  and  the  drawers  of 
water. 

Finally  one  said:  "These  stolen  muchachas  are  no 
relatives  of  ours.  Forgive  me,  Lady  Carmelita,  if  I 
say,  it  is  the  business  of  their  fathers  and  brothers  to 
undertake  rescue." 

The  farm  hand  who  thus  spoke  knew  of  Stanislaus 
as  a  human  bloodhound,  as  well  as  a  tried  and  dauntless 
warrior.  He  would  as  lief  interfere  with  the  lion  and 
his  bride  as  attempt  to  balk  the  chief. 

"Will  you  see  your  peon  brethren  of  the  Mission  sleep 
in  tears  this  night?  Do  not  the  padres  teach  us  that 
the  sorrow  of  one  must  be  the  grief  of  all  ?" 

No  one  answered.  Motionless  as  well  as  voiceless  were 
the  men  and  women. 

"An  hour's  delay,  and  the  renegades  may  be  bejond 
reach,"  she  went  on. 

Still  no  response. 


A  DAUGHTER  399 

A  cry  sounded  from  the  Mission  patio,  quivering  with 
anguish.  It  came  from  some  man's  throat. 

"Amigos,"  again  from  the  girl,  "listen  to  what  you 
hear.  Some  father  is  stricken  down  in  body  by  the 
renegades,  but  his  soul  is  calling  aloud  in  bitterness  for 
his  child.  Who  will  rush  after  the  renegades  and  hang 
to  their  flank,  as  the  wolf  stays  the  flight  of  the  elk? 
Who  will  go,  I  ask?" 

The  Indians  shifted  from  foot  to  foot.  Some  of  the 
peonas  looked  inquiringly  at  their  husbands.  No  one 
spoke. 

"7  will  go,"  suddenly  from  Carmelita,  her  form 
straightening,  her  face  paling.  "Who  will  go  with  me?" 
she  challenged.  "I  am  only  a  woman,  yet  will  I  handle  a 
rifle  in  such  a  cause  as  this.  Who  will  go  with  me?" 

A  grizzled  Indian  stepped  haltingly  up  to  the  girl.  "I 
am  only  old  Enrico,"  he  said.  "I  used  to  be  one  of  the 
fighting  men  of  the  senor,  your  father,  but  a  bullet  from 
Yoscolo's  band  smashed  my  hip  years  ago  and  left  me 
fit  only  to  hoe  potatoes.  Senorita  dona,  I  will  go  with 
you  and  harry  Stanislaus  with  what  strength  I  have.  I 
can  never  die  in  a  better  cause." 

The  senorita  waited.    There  were  no  other  volunteers. 

Enrico,  turning,  faced  his  fellows.  "I'll  not  say, 
men,"  he  exclaimed,  "but  whatever  ye  be,  go  to  service 
in  the  house,  and  let  the  maids  there  ride  with  the 
senorita  dona  and  me  to  the  chastising  of  Stanislaus. 
Go,  for  we  are  wasting  time  while  the  hostiles'  pace 
marks  leagues  the  hour.  Go !  Cook  the  feed,  wash  the 
dishes,  make  the  beds,  while  the  peonas  do  the  fighting. 
Ye  cowards !  Go  into  the  house  where  ye  belong." 


400     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Enrico's  sarcasm  brought  no  result.  He  turned  back 
to  Carmelita. 

The  girl  looked  past  the  old  peon's  upturned 
face,  over  the  heads  of  the  unresponsive  Indians, 
out  into  the  distance,  her  eyes  resting  on  the  eastern 
hills. 

"I  hear  no  other  offer.  So  be  it.  A  woman  and  a 
crippled  old  man  ride  forth  alone.  It  shall  not  be  said 
that  the  deed  of  to-day  passes  unopposed."  Her  face 
hardened,  bright  spots  showing  in  either  cheek.  Her 
mouth  set  in  lines  which  bespoke  the  fixity  of  her  pur 
pose. 

Enrico  raised  his  hands  with  affection  and  reverence. 
"Senorita  dona,  these  arms  carried  thee  before  thy 
tongue  could  lisp  a  word.  I  will  go  without  thee.  Thou 
must  not " 

"Hush !  hush !  old  friend.  Zunello,"  to  a  stable  boy, 
"two  horses  ready  for  the  mounting,  and  two  rifles. 
Be  quick !  Bring  them  here." 

As  said,  so  done. 

"Come  Enrico,  I'll  lend  thee  a  shoulder  to  help  thee 
to  the  saddleseat." 

In  a  moment  she  too  was  on  her  horse.  She  checked 
its  head  high  and  reined  it  mountainward. 

"Wait,  senorita,  wait !  Here,  dona,  here !  I  will  go. 
And  I !  So  will  I !  So  will  I !  I !  I !  I !"  swelled  in  hoarse 
tones  from  the  multitude. 

"Take  them  at  their  word  at  once,"  whispered  En 
rico. 

She  needed  no  second  prompting.  Couriers  were  sent 
posthaste  to  San  Jose  pueblo,  Yerba  Buena  and  Mon- 


A  DAUGHTER  401 

terey,  with  messages  acquainting  the  different  coman- 
dantes  of  the  raid. 

The  Mendoza  armory  was  opened  and  muskets,  pow 
der  and  ball  apportioned  to  the  volunteers. 

While  horses  were  being  brought  the  senorita,  with 
her  corps  of  peona  nurses,  hastened  to  the  Mission 
grounds.  They  found  several  peons  who  had  been  se 
verely  manhandled  lying  insensible  in  the  patio,  or 
trying  to  crawl  to  their  quarters.  A  half  dozen  or  more 
matronas  had  been  beaten  with  clubs  while  offering  re 
sistance  to  the  summary  taking-away  of  their  charges. 

The  injured  were  given  first-aid  treatment,  and  the 
terrified  matronas  encouraged  to  regain  self-possession. 

Carmelita  soon  left  the  Mission,  to  lead  a  half- 
unwilling  band  of  armed  mounted  men  up  the  steep 
grades  to  the  east,  to  follow  on  the  heels  of  Stanislaus, 
to  wrest  from  him,  if  they  could,  the  prizes  his  daring 
had  gained  for  himself  and  his  renegade  followers. 

The  broad  trail  of  the  robbers  led  up  the  mountain, 
skirted  the  Great  Slide  and  into  the  pass  toward  the 
valley  of  Calaveras  where  the  merienda  had  been  in 
late  spring.  Stanislaus,  little  apprehensive  of  imme 
diate  pursuit,  had  allowed  his  fighting  men  to  crowd  into 
the  defile  and  mix  with  those  carrying  the  neophyte 
girls,  leaving  the  rear  of  his  march  unguarded.  Disci 
pline  thus  relaxed  the  riflemen  passed  the  time  bandying 
words  with  the  others. 

"Ha!  Bartolo,"  from  a  fighting  man,  "the  damsel 
with  thee  would  better  be  in  the  saddle,  and  thou  in  her 
arms.  Santa  Cruz!  if  she  snatches  another  handful  of 
thj  mop  thou  wilt  be  as  bald  as  a  buckeye." 


402     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  "damsel"  was  none  other  than  Pepita,  who  vig 
orously  pulled  her  captor's  hair  and  beat  his  face  when 
ever  opportunity  offered. 

"She's  pretty  as  a  yearling  fawn,"  parried  Bartolo. 
"Art  sweet-tempered  and  playful,  little  one?  No?" 

The  "little  one"  replied  by  so  energetically  pushing 
her  foot  into  the  pit  of  Bartolo's  stomach  that  he  was 
nearly  overbalanced. 

"Ha!  ha!"  jeered  the  first  speaker,  "pass  her  to  me, 
Bartolo.  Otherwise  it's  plain  who'll  pound  the  corn 
and  bake  the  tortillas  in  thy  wickiup." 

"A  devil  bite  thee,  Naciso,"  growled  Bartolo.  "Quit, 
thou  angel,"  to  Pepita,  "or  thou  wilt  find  that  in  a  mat 
ter  of  blows  I  can  give  as  well  as  take." 

At  the  eastern  end  of  the  pass  the  sides  became  sheer 
declivities;  while  the  roadway,  a  sharp  incline,  so  nar 
rowed  that  a  part  of  Stanislaus's  riflemen  were  forced 
to  lead  the  procession,  the  remainder  to  go  to  the  rear, 
as  a  wet  sponge  squeezed  in  the  middle  drips  at  both 
ends. 

"Halt!"  like  a  thunder-bolt  in  clear  sky,  came  a 
stentorian  shout  from  the  western  outlet.  It  was  En 
rico,  and  ranged  by  his  side  and  Carmelita  Mendoza's 
were  three  hundred  men  whose  carbines  were  gleaming 
in  the  afternoon  sun. 

Less  than  four  hours  elapsed  since  noon,  and  Stanis 
laus  had  calculated  that  no  rescuing  party  could  be 
organized  before  the  following  day.  He  was  astounded. 
Morando,  he  knew,  had  gone  to  Monterey  with  Senor 
Mendoza.  His  scouts  had  brought  the  word  shortly 
before  the  attack  at  the  Mission. 


A  DAUGHTER  403 

The  pursuers  quickly  thinned  their  line  and  stretched 
across  the  mouth  of  the  pass. 

The  chief,  ever  quick-witted,  formulated  a  plan  on 
the  moment — to  gain  time  by  parleying,  meanwhile  sur 
reptitiously  to  recall  his  riflemen  to  the  front,  thus, 
with  his  fighters  together,  hold  the  ground  till  night 
when  he  would  escape  under  cover  of  dark.  So : 

"Under  whose  leadership  come  you?"  he  questioned. 
"Captain  Morando's?" 

There  was  no  reply.     He  repeated: 

"Who's  your  leader,  I  say  ?  Captain  Morando  ?"  his 
eyes  searching  the  ranks  of  the  newcomers. 

Silently  men  began  filtering  through  the  press  back 
to  Stanislaus's  side,  in  accordance  with  his  low-toned, 
hurriedly  given  order. 

"Has  that  one  word  from  you  left  your  tongue  be 
numbed,  fool?  Who  heads  you?"  inwardly  swearing  at 
his  stupidity  in  allowing  his  fighting  force  to  become  di 
vided.  "Answer  me.  Who  heads  you?" 

"The  Senorita  Dona  Carmelita  Mendoza,"  replied 
Enrico,  impressively. 

"Thou  hast  ever  been  a  joker,  old  man,"  guffawed 
Stanislaus.  "Call  to  mind  Salinas  field  where  our  bullet 
overtook  thee,  and  bawl  a  joke  about  that." 

Carmelita  advanced  her  horse  a  few  steps.  "Stanis 
laus,  I  remember  you  as  Padre  Duran's  major-domo, 
at  Mission  San  Jose.  Come  forth  here  and  meet  me, 
and  let  you  and  me  alone  arrange  for  returning  the 
peonas  to  their  home.  For  each  rifle  of  yours  we  have 
two  to  oppose,  and  reenforcements  arc  hurrying  to  join 
us.  Come,  let  us  speak  together." 


404     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Her  words  to  the  renegade  rang  through  the  narrow 
canon  with  the  weight  of  a  command.  Amazement  hold 
the  outlaw's  tongue.  To  be  summoned  to  war  confer 
ence  with  a  sefiorita  was  an  experience  hitherto  un 
known. 

"Speak,  Stanislaus,"  her  turn,  now,  to  insist,  "or  have 
you  become  dumb?  Or,  are  you  afraid  to  ride  out  to 
meet  a  woman?" 

"I  must  have  time  to  consult  my  lieutenants,"  dis 
simulated  the  chief.  "Stand  at  one  side,  then,  with  your 
lieutenants.  Let  no  other  among  you  move." 

The  vigor  of  her  spirit,  showing  through  manner  and 
speech,  caused  the  interfiling  among  Stanislaus's  men 
to  lessen,  then  to  cease. 

"Is  Senor  Mendoza  there?"  he  inquired.  Then,  in 
undertone,  through  shut  teeth.  "Carajo !  slip  along 
here,  you  scared  rabbits,  or  I'll  burn  every  one  of  you 
alive !" 

Again  the  straggling  rifles  began  pushing  back  to  him. 

"The  Senor  Mendoza  is  not  here,  but  his  daughter  is. 
Take  no  further  steps,  not  one  of  you,  or  I  will  order 
my  men  to  fire." 

Circling  her  horse,  she  gave  the  word :  "See  to  your 
priming!  Present  your  pieces!"  as  she  had  seen  her 
father  do  on  many  an  occasion. 

"Hold,  senorita !"  from  Stanislaus.  "'Tis  very  fitting 
that  we  confer,  but  I  must  have  my  lieutenants'  agree 
ment."  Then,  in  somewhat  lower  key:  "Such  fat  wits 
you  lieutenants  are.  I  can  beat  nothing  into  you  except 
with  my  pistol  butt.  Draw  nearer,  you  rattle-pated 
grass-eaters." 


A  DAUGHTER  405 

This  reached  Carmelita's  ears,  as  he  intended  it 
should;  but  she  did  not  fail  to  catch  in  it  the  tempo 
rizing  to  bring  to  his  side  those  of  his  riflemen  who  had 
not  already  wormed  their  way  back. 

"Girl  stealer,  deliver  the  peonas  with  you  to  us, 
else  you  and  your  fellow  thieves  will  lie  here,  food  for 
vulture  and  coyote,"  challenged  the  senorita,  true 
daughter  of  the  soldier  de  la  Mendoza. 

"Have  care,  dona,"  cautioned  Enrico.  "The  mis 
creant's  talk  means  treachery." 

"Stanislaus  is  going  to  shoot!"  screamed  Pepita  in 

warning.  "He r  The  last  word  ended  in  a  gurgle, 

a  hand  closing  around  her  throat. 

Suddenly,  the  outlaws  fired  from  the  hip,  with  ac 
curate  aim.  The  bullets  cut  through  the  air.  Man}^  of 
Carmelita's  Indians  had  wheeled  under  their  horses  at 
Pepita's  cry  of  warning,  thus  saving  themselves.  How 
ever,  not  a  few  of  the  shots,  flying  low,  found  home  in 
flesh  and  bone  of  both  man  and  beast.  The  hoarse  cry 
of  stricken  horses  drowned  the  moan  of  fallen  men. 
Confusion  reigned  among  the  raw  recruits  from  the 
Mendoza  hacienda,  for  the  first  time  facing  veterans. 
Wounded  horses  threshing  from  side  to  side,  or  strug 
gling  backward  or  forward,  added  disorder  to  disorder. 

A  fierce  exhilaration  possessed  the  senorita  as  the 
leaden  whispers  of  death  parted  before  her  face.  The 
heritage  of  twenty  generations  asserted  itself,  bringing 
with  it  the  intoxication  of  battle  and  the  genius  of 
generalship.  As  there  was  no  fear  in  her  heart,  so  was 
there,  for  the  time  being,  no  room  for  sorrow  at  the 
suffering  and  death  about  her.  She  knew  only  a  ve- 


406     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

hement  desire  to  dash  upon  Stanislaus,  beat  him  to  the 
dust,  scatter  destruction  over  his  men,  ride  trium 
phantly  back  to  the  foothills,  and  return  the  peonas  to 
the  arms  of  their  matronas. 

The  confusion  among  the  hacienda  workmen  became 
a  panic.  "Escape !"  one  yelled,  and  spurred  his  horse  to 
safety.  One  after  another  burst  from  the  ranks,  to 
follow  like  frightened  sheep.  Volley  after  volley  whistled 
after  them  from  the  outlaws'  pistols  and  carbines.  De 
risive  yells  and  laughter  came  from  the  seasoned  fight 
ers. 

A  figure  darted  past  the  fleeing  peons.  A  horse  was 
brought  up  across  the  road  in  front  of  them,  and  Car- 
melita  faced  the  retreating  mob. 

"Back  to  the  canon's  mouth !"  she  commanded.  "I'll 
shoot  the  man  who  yields  another  step,"  pointing  signi 
ficantly  to  her  rifle.  Her  eyes  blazed  with  terrible  in 
sistence,  her  face  chalk-white  with  passion. 

The  terrified  peons  paused.  To  their  superstitious 
natures  their  young  mistress  was  become  a  threatening 
god  from  another  world. 

"The  canon's  mouth  is  the  mouth  of  hell,"  some  one 
found  courage  to  say. 

"It  is  the  gate  of  deliverance  for  the  girls  those 
renegades  have  stolen.  Back  to  the  pass,  hombres ! 
Back  to  the  pass !  and  fight  till  the  death!"  She  waved 
her  rifle  over  her  head.  "Back  to  the  pass,  hombres, 
and  make  rescue !" 

She  turned  her  horse  toward  the  canon.  "Follow 
me!" 

She  went  forward.     The  men  obeyed.     From  a  walk, 


A  DAUGHTER  407 

they  urged  their  horses  into  a  gallop,  then  into  topmost 
speed.  The  dispirited  rabble  became  a  fighting  bat 
talion. 

Stanislaus,  in  curiosity  to  see  what  had  become  of  the 
column  so  rashly  attacking  him,  had  moved  back  into 
the  wake  of  the  retreating  peons. 

The  hoof-thunder  of  horses  tempestuously  advancing 
caused  him  to  throw  his  force  into  a  hollow  square,  fear 
ing  that  some  body  of  capable  soldiery,  having  tracked 
him,  was  about  to  make  a  charge  on  him. 

For  the  third  time  within  half  an  hour  the  chief's 
senses  were  held  in  wonder.  The  approaching  troop 
was  the  same  which  a  few  minutes  before  had  ignomin- 
iously  fled  before  him.  Rapidly  they  deployed,  under 
jCarmelita's  orders,  the  line  thus  formed  making  the  men 
a  more  difficult  target,  as  the  girl  had  learned  in  watch 
ing  her  father  train  fighting  peons. 

"Present  rifles  !  Aim !  Fire !"  the  senorita  called  in 
a  single  breath. 

The  canon  shook  under  the  deafening  detonation  that 
resulted.  Boulders,  loosened  by  the  concussion,  rolled 
down  the  sides  of  the  defile.  A  thousand  echoes  reiter 
ated  the  vengeance  of  the  valley  peons. 

Stanislaus's  Indians,  massed  together,  withered  un 
der  the  tremendous  fusillade.  Only  those  in  front 
could  use  their  weapons  to  advantage,  the  riflemen  on 
sides  and  rear  of  the  square  being  in  danger  of  hitting 
their  fellows,  if  they  attempted  to  shoot  low  enough 
to  strike  among  their  enemy. 

Carmelita  fired  her  rifle,  reloaded  it  and  fired  it  again 
and  again,  till  the  weapon  clogged  with  powder-smut 


408     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

and  became  so  heated  that  she  could  scarcely  hold  the 
barrel  for  sighting. 

The  undrilled  peons  from  the  rancho,  steadied  by  her 
example,  added  coolness  to  their  enthusiasm.  Despite 
their  friends  falling  everywhere  around  them,  under 
Stanislaus's  desperate  defense,  their  line  gradually  was 
closing  in  on  him,  their  carbines,  flash  upon  flash, 
cracking  in  deadly  purpose. 

The  Indian  chieftain's  number  was  decimated  seri 
ously  ;  still,  in  hollow  square  formation,  he  slowly 
backed  to  the  narrow  end  of  the  pass,  here  to  wait  for 
the  protecting  shadow's  of  night. 

Relays  of  peons,  arriving  at  the  Mendoza  hacienda 
late,  hastened  after  Carmelita  and  the  others.  These 
reenforcements  brought  dismay  to  the  hard-driven  sav 
ages  fighting  against  time  for  their  opportunity  to 
escape  with  their  booty. 

Stanislaus,  knowing  the  value  of  active  offense  in  such 
an  emergency,  detached  Cayetano  and  a  body  of  se 
lected  men,  to  make  a  sortie. 

Cayetano's  face  seamed.  His  teeth  bared.  "Knock 
the  wenches  on  the  head !  Then  every  man  for  himself ! 
or,  we'll  never  leave  this  rat-trap  alive." 

"Cayetano,  to  the  front,  as  I  say !  Lead  the  attack !" 
ordered  the  chief. 

"Lead  it  yourself.  Your  bones  will  look  as  well 
whitening  the  ground  as  mine." 

Stanislaus,  without  further  word,  struck  to  his  death 
the  insubordinate. 

The  dire  fate  Cayetano  had  wished  to  visit  on  the 
peonas  was  seconded  by  the  menacing  looks  of  not  a 


A  DAUGHTER  409 

few  of  the  abductors.  "Yes,  knock  the  girls  on  the 
head!  Knock  the  girls  on  the  head!  Let's  get  out  of 
here!  Curse  the  witches  anyway!"  could  be  heard  on 
all  sides. 

"They  are  going  to  kill  us!  to  kill  us!"  pierced  the 
air  laden  with  smoke  of  battle  and  the  odor  of  blood. 
"O,  save  us !  Save  us !  Have  pity  on  us !  Take  us 
home!  Mother  in  Heaven!  O,  saye  us!" 

Goaded  to  frenzy  by  these  cries,  Carmelita's  peons 
flooded  across  the  intervening  space  and  fell  on  Stanis 
laus,  who  abandoned  to  their  fate  the  sortie  detail  he 
had  thrown  forward.  With  such  men  as  he  could  muster 
he  sped,  with  the  peonas,  out  of  the  canon  into  the 
broken  country  edging  Calaveras  Valley.  Here  his 
people  seemed  to  scatter.  Hoof-tracks  led  aimlessly  to 
every  quarter  of  the  compass. 

To  solve  the  riddle  the  hacienda  peons  ran  over  the 
ground  and  nosed  it  like  hounds.  No  one  could  tell  in 
which  direction  to  go  in  succor  of  the  peonas. 

From  his  saddle  old  Enrico  peered  at  the  signs  which 
to  the  ordinary  observer  indicated  that  Stanislaus  and 
his  people  had  come  in  compact  body  to  this  spot,  then, 
under  centrifugal  impulse,  had  departed  hither  and 
yon. 

In  his  observings  the  man  moved  a  little  away  from 
Carmelita,  then  returned. 

"Senorita  dona,  I'm  proud  of  the  boys ;  they're  all 
right — that  onslaught — line  lasted  them  about  as  long 
as  a  box  of  mice  would  a  dozen  terriers — but  they  can't 
read  a  trail.3' 

"Then,  you  be  eyes  for  us,  Enrico,"  pleaded  Carme- 


410     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

lita.  "Soon  the  sun  leaves,  and  search  to-morrow  will 
be  useless." 

Enrico  dismounted,  slowly  crawled  on  knees  and 
hands,  examining  the  ground  minutely.  He  descended 
into  a  swiftly  running  stream,  and  studied  the  rocky 
bed  through  the  clear  water.  Finally,  he  crept  up  the 
other  side  and  limped  away  into  the  forest. 

It  seemed  an  age  before  he  came  back.  Long  shadows, 
forerunners  of  approaching  night,  were  measuring  the 
hills  beyond.  At  last  he  was  in  sight,  exultation  light 
ing  his  face  and  hastening  his  uncertain  steps. 

"Senorita  dona,"  he  exclaimed,  "Stanislaus  is  near 
here,  on  foot,  and  consequently  at  our  mercy." 

"How  so,  Enrico?"  quickly  from  Carmelita. 

"His  horses  left  that  stream  riderless,  as  their 
plunging  gait  shows;  though  they  went  into  it  under 
bridle,  as  is  plain  from  the  even  measure  of  their  step. 
The  foot  impression  of  men's  hard-leather  soles  lies  in 
that  creek-bed.  Stanislaus  and  many  with  him  wear 
Mission  shoes  of  tanned  cattle-skin.  Furthermore," 
holding  up  a  knot  of  ribbon,  "this  adornment  was 
caught  on  a  low-sweeping  madrona  branch,  and  these," 
showing  several  wet  deer-skin  moccasins  inlaid  with 
glass  beads,  "I  plucked  from  crevices  where  the  bottom 
of  the  stream  is  rocky.  The  scoundrelly  renegades  can 
not  be  far  away.  Let  us  rush  down  on  them,  having 
caution,  though,  for  ambuscade." 

"They  are  bound  for  the  cave  two  miles  farther  down 
the  canon,  and  they  sought  to  deceive  us  into  following 
riderless  horses.  We  must  cut  them  off  before  they 
reach  the  shelter,"  cried  Carmelita. 


A  DAUGHTER  411 

She  led  the  way  at  break-neck  speed  through  chapar 
ral,  over  gullies,  up  rocky  heights  that  would  have  taxed 
the  climbing  abilities  of  a  goat,  down  a  long,  thickly- 
shrubbed  glade,  to  a  ragged  opening  under  a  cliff.  It 
was  the  exit  through  which,  the  night  of  the  storm, 
Farquharson  and  Brown,  with  Yoscolo  and  Stanislaus, 
had  passed  from  the  cave  which  gave  refuge  to  Carme- 
lita  and  her  duena. 

"Within  and  quickly!"  called  the  girl,  driving 
straight  through  the  natural  door.  The  peons  thronged 
after  her. 

Light  made  its  way  into  the  many-chambered  cavern 
through  the  innumerable  rifts  in  the  rocky  mountain 
side.  Carmelita  led  the  way  to  the  lower  entrance  where 
the  carreta  had  come  to  grief.  Here  they  waited,  grim 
figures  in  the  twilight  silence. 

"Some  are  coming,"  Enrico  whispered  after  a  mo 
ment. 

They  saw  many  forms  approaching.  The  Indians, 
carrying  the  girls  in  their  arms,  stalked  in  single  file, 
each  stepping  with  precision  in  the  footprints  of  his 
precedessor,  to  give  the  impression  that  but  one  man 
had  passed  that  way.  The  semidarkness  of  the  cave 
prevented  their  seeing  anyone  inside. 

"Drop  your  rifles  !  Up  with  your  hands !"  Carmelita's 
voice  gathered  volume  from  the  great  spaces  behind. 

Stanislaus  and  his  men  were  petrified. 

"Drop  your  rifles !  Up  with  your  hands !"  repeated 
the  girl. 

"Stanislaus,  show  yourself  to  be  a  joker.  Make  a 
jest!"  mocked  old  Enrico. 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  renegades  dropped  the  peonas ;  the  most  of  them 
threw  away  their  weapons ;  all  fled  precipitately.  Thus 
ended  the  memorable  raid  of  Stanislaus,  the  Indian 
renegade,  unaccountably  put  to  rout  by  a  delicately 
reared  senorita. 

Carmelita  and  the  peons  quickly  gathered  around 
the  neophytes.  Despite  the  severe  experience  of  the  day 
not  one  of  the  girls  had  received  injury.  Amid  tears 
and  laughter  they  loudly  expressed  their  gratitude  to 
their  deliverers.  Their  vociferations  were  silenced  by 
the  sound  of  musketry  discharge,  in  the  direction  to 
ward  which  Stanislaus  and  his  men  had  gone.  Many 
of  the  peons,  mad  with  thirst  of  slaughter,  tore  thither 
ward. 

Soon  musketry  rattled  again,  this  time  much  nearer 
the  cave.  The  girl,  leaving  Enrico  and  a  guard  in 
charge  of  the  peonas,  rode  after  the  men.  She  climbed 
a  steep  hill.  Looking  over  a  crag  into  the  valley  below, 
she  saw  that  which  clutched  her  heart. 

Captain  Morando  lay  wounded  there.  Stanislaus, 
knife  in  hand,  was  leaping  down  a  narrow  path  toward 
him.  The  soldier's  pistol  was  lying  several  feet  away. 
He  attempted  to  reach  it,  but  ineffectually. 

The  Indian  growled  wolf-like  as  he  neared  his  enemy. 

"Stop  !"  shrieked  Carmelita,  springing  from  her  horse 
and  madly  bounding  down  the  path. 

"You  villain !"  she  flung  at  Stanislaus,  as  she  faced 
him. 

Except  for  the  knife  he  was  unarmed.  He  saw  that 
her  hands  were  empty.  She  had  left  her  rifle  OM  the 
saddle.  He  jumped  toward  her. 


A  DAUGHTER  413 

"Up  the  path,  for  God's  sake,  Carmelita!"  weakly 
cried  the  stricken  Captain. 

"Never !    I'll  die  first !" 

The  knife  was  cleaving  the  air.  The  girl  saw  only 
Don  Alfredo. 

"Pause!  renegade,"  a  deep  voice  sounded  back  of 
them. 

Padre  Osuna  had  vaulted  from  an  overhanging  shelf. 
Catching  Stanislaus's  wrists  he  wrenched  the  knife 
from  his  hand.  Raising  the  desperado  from  the  earth 
he  hurled  him  with  volcanic  power  against  a  tree-trunk. 
The  creature  fell  senseless.  Examination  showed  him 
to  be  stunned  only. 

The  friar  took  Morando's  head  in  his  arms. 

"Where  the  hurt,  my  brother?" 

"My  shoulder,"  his  eyes  closing  in  oblivion. 

"O,  Padre,  is  Alfredo  much  injured?"  her  low  words 
trembling  with  emotion. 

"I  cannot  yet  tell,  dona,"  sympathetic  concern  for 
the  prostrate  man  showing  in  his  face  and  voice  as  he 
half  whispered  the  reply. 

"The  wound  is  deep — and  ugly — on  the  left  side,  too 
— I  don't  like  its  looks."  He  seemed  to  be  speaking  to 
himself,  as  his  taper  fingers  deftly  and  gently  searched 
the  course  of  the  bullet. 

Carmelita  scarcely  breathed. 

"Get  some  water  from  that  spring,  dona,  quick.  His 
pulse  is  stopping.  Bring  it  in  his  cap ;  there's  nothing 
else." 

The  girl's  feet  scarcely  touched  the  ground  in  per 
forming  the  task. 


414?     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

The  friar  dashed  the  water  in  Morando's  face.  His 
pulse  showed  no  quickening.  Carmelita  hastened  for 
another  supply  of  water.  This  was  as  ineffective  as  the 
first.  A  third  capful  brought  a  slight  return  of  anima 
tion. 

"He's  a  little  better  now." 

"O,  padre." 

Morando  looked  slowly  up  at  them. 

"Better  now,  brother?  Good,"  as  Morando  slightly 
nodded.  "We'll  have  you  around  soon.  Lie  very  quietly 
and  rest." 

At  sight  of  the  pallid  face  lying  against  the  padre's 
arm,  Carmelita  turned  and  walked  away,  to  conceal  the 
sobbing  that  would  not  down. 

"But  the  bullet  has  found  no  vital  part.  Here  it  is, 
lodged  in  the  muscles  under  the  arm,"  the  friar  soon 
announced  cheeringly. 

Immediately  Carmelita  returned,  her  face  speaking 
joy,  her  lips  silent. 

"With  good  care  our  caballero  will  recover.  Thank 
God!" 

"Thank  God!"  repeated  the  girl,  her  throat  hardly 
vocalizing  the  words. 

"And  now,  senorita,  mia,  may  we  trouble  thee  for 
more  water?  Our  pitcher  lacks  size,  therefore  must  it 
go  often  to  the  well." 

Morando  drank  eagerly,  with  the  thirst  of  the 
wounded.  Refreshed,  he  tried  to  move  to  a  sitting 
posture.  The  padre  gently  restrained  him. 

"Not  yet,  my  friend.     A  little  more  rest." 

Morando  again  closed  his  eyes. 


A  DAUGHTER  415 

"I  forgot  to  send  you  word  to-day,  padre,"  from  the 
senorita. 

"Word  came,  nevertheless,  dona.  My  men  cross- 
tracked  the  renegades  in  the  hills  above  us  and  are  now 
chasing  them." 

Stanislaus,  regaining  consciousness  from  a  shock  that 
would  have  broken  the  bones  of  an  ordinary  man,  made 
an  attempt  for  freedom.  The  friar's  hand  whirled  him 
back. 

"Estanislao,  many  unshriven  souls  have  this  day  gone 
before  God  because  of  you.  Have  you  no  compunc 
tions?" 

The  Indian  glowered. 

"Senorita,  I  will  leave  Captain  Morando  with  you 
a  few  minutes,  while  I  find  men  and  improvise  a  litter. 
As  for  you,  son  of  Belial,"  speaking  to  Stanislaus, 
"walk  before  me  until  I  can  get  safe  custody  for  you." 

Padre  Osuna  drove  the  sulky  renegade  up  the  path. 

Carmelita  brought  fresh  water  and  bathed  the 
wounded  man's  face.  He  lay  very  still.  At  last  he 
opened  his  eyes. 

"Carmelita,  what  are  you  doing  here?" 

"Never  mind  that  till  later." 

"I  went  part  way  to  Monterey  with  Senor  Mendoza, 
then  I  returned  to  San  Jose,  where  I  received  your  mes 
sage,"  he  said  in  weak  voice.  "I  could  only  bring  a  few 
volunteers,  my  soldiers  having  continued  on  with  the 
seiior." 

"Please  do  not  talk.  You  are  not  strong  enough. 
The  padre  will  soon  bring  assistance,  and  we  will  take 
you  to  my  father's  house." 


416     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

He  lay  quiet  once  more.  The  girl  thought  he  slept. 
Her  smooth  hands  continued  bathing  his  face. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  offend  you,  Carmelita.  I  didn't 
know — of  your  engagement — to  Don  Abelardo." 

"So  you  have  heard  that  old  story!  Why,  Alfredo, 
I  have  never  been  engaged  to  anyone." 

His  eyes  opened  wide.  A  faint  flush  spread  orer  his 
pale  cheeks. 

"Never  engaged — never  engaged — you  are  not  going 
to  marry  Peralta — not  marry  him?" 

"No,"  she  smiled. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
A  DEPARTURE 

"QENOR  MENDOZA,  there  is  no  use  to  continue 
fc^    this  parley.     It  does  no  good.     I  have  possession 
of  California.     That  possession  I  shall  retain." 

"The  enlightened  will  of  the  people  of  this  province 
must  decide  whether  you  retain  possession,  or  relin 
quish  it,  Commodore  Billings." 

The  two  were  standing  within  the  fort,  at  a  window. 
They  were  alone.  The  marines  of  the  frigate  United 
States  and  the  sloop-of-war  Cyane  were  drilling  not 
far  away.  The  soft,  "plush,  plush,  plush"  of  their 
feet  could  be  heard,  following  the  staccato  calls  for 
maneuvers. 

"I  relinquish  possession  only  when  forced  to  do  so." 

"The  proposal  was  made  and  accepted  that  your 
government  hold  Monterey  tentatively." 

"Never  accepted  by  me.  Our  consideration  of  that 
question  was  broken  up  by  Sefior  Zelaya  sprinting 
in  with  news  that  Fairbanks's  ships  were  passing  south. 
The  subject  was  not  taken  up  again." 

"But  O'Donnell  accepted  it,  Commodore.  He  has 
letters  from  Mr.  Tyler,  your  President,  countersigned 
by  your  Secretary  of  State,  giving  him  full  power  to 
act  for  his  government." 

417 


418     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Produce  O'Donnell  and  his  papers,  Colonel  Men 
doza." 

"O'Donnell  started  eastward  at  midnight,  as  you  well 
know.  Two  months  will  scarce  see  his  return." 

"Sefior  Mendoza,  I  found  the  capital  here  without 
government  of  any  kind ;  in  other  words,  deserted." 

"The  absence  of  the  people's  servants,  whether  in 
fort  or  government  house,  does  not  make  void  that 
people's  rights." 

"I  led  my  ships  through  peril  of  fog  and  night,  to 
gain  advantage  of  the  British.  Had  they  reached  here 
before  me,  then,  Senor  Mendoza,  this  enlightened  will 
of  which  you  speak  might  go  to  Jericho." 

"The  British  would  have  arrived  here  before  you,  as 
you  are  well  aware,  had  not  trading  vessels,  which  I 
have  under  charter,  at  gravest  risk  drawn  you  away 
from  certain  wreck." 

Billings  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"Commodore,  in  plain  words,  you  are  engaged  in  a 
piece  of  fillibustering.  The  United  States  is  not  back 
of  such  a  movement  as  this." 

The  Commodore  paced  away  savagely,  then  turned. 

"Colonel  Mendoza,  possession  is  nine  points  of  law, 
and  I  have  possession.  Demonstrate  a  better  right 
than  mine ;  and  maintain  it,  if  you  can !" 

The  Spaniard,  stooping,  raised  a  heavy  trapdoor. 
He  threw  it  back.  Iron-barred  windows  lighted  a  cham 
ber  beneath.  Mounds  of  powder  were  heaped  around 
everywhere. 

"Commodore  Billings,  we  are  standing  over  the 
powder-magazine  of  this  fort." 


DEPARTURE  419 

"So  I  perceive,  Seilor  Mendoza." 

The  sefior  looked  coolly  at  the  other. 

"Well,  perceive  this."  From  his  pocket  he  drew  a 
taper,  used  for  lighting  cigaritos,  ignited  it  and  held 
it  up. 

"Man,  what  are  you  about?    Put  out  that  fire!" 

"Ah !  Stand  near — not  too  close.  Now,  look  at  that 
black  sand." 

Billings's  mouth  shut  hard. 

"In  that  sand,  Commodore,  there  is  power  enough 
pent  up  to  blow  your  marines  to  atoms,  if  I  drop  this 
tiny  piece  of  flame.  You  and  I — well,  Commodore 
Billings,  it  is  not  necessary  to  consider  ourselves." 

Mendoza  held  the  taper  between  thumb  and  fore 
finger.  Two  paces  distant,  across  the  aperture  in  the 
floor,  the  Commodore  stood,  his  hand  resting  on  a  pistol 
which  he  did  not  draw. 

"Shoot,  Sefior  Billings,"  Mendoza  said  quietly,  still 
holding  the  taper  over  the  powder. 

Billings's  hand  dropped  from  the  pistol  to  his  side. 

"Then,  cry  aloud  for  help,  my  seiior." 

"Mendoza,  what  are  you  about?"  hoarsely  asked  the 
Commodore.  "What  do  you  want?" 

"That  you  leave  Monterey." 

Billings's  teeth  ground  together.     "Never!" 

"Never?"  glancing  at  the  taper. 

"It  would  not  be  the  first  house  you  have  blown  up." 

"But  it  would  be  the  last,  my  Commodore." 

Mendoza  seemed  to  grow  in  stature,  to  become  co 
lossal,  terrible. 

"This  taper  burns  low.    I  have  not  another." 


420    THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Billings's  form  relaxed. 

"Your  province  is  not  worth  a  quarter  thousand 
lives." 

"So,  you  decide,  Seflor  Billings.  Well,  open  that  win 
dow,  then,  and  order  your  men  to  the  ships." 

"I  shall  not.  What  a  diabolical  advantage  for  you 
to  take,  Mendoza !" 

"Nothing  of  the  sort.  I  merely  insist  on  the  preser 
vation  of  the  rights  of  this  province.  You  proclaim 
your  intention  of  violating  these  rights,  notwithstand 
ing  O'Donnell's  pledged  words." 

The  flame  pointed  its  unsteady  way  higher. 

*"0ne  minute  more  you  have,  Commodore  Billings." 
Slowly  Mendoza  turned  his  hand.  The  taper  slipped 
a  little  through  his  fingers.  "Now,  Sefior  Billings, 
or " 

The  Commodore's  voice  shouted  to  his  marines.  His 
lips  were  framing  a  call  for  help. 

The  taper  moved  downward  a  little  farther.  "Com 
modore  Billings,  you  thus  cast  the  die?  One — two — " 
a  significant  pause. 

The  Commodore's  hollow  voice  ordered  his  men  to 
the  ships. 

Mendoza  extinguished  the  taper.  In  one  hand  he 
still  held  its  end;  in  the  other  he  meaningly  grasped 
the  flint.  He  did  not  speak. 

Billings  repeated  his  command,  till  every  wondering 
marine  had  embarked. 

Mendoza's  peon  riflemen  filed  into  the  castle;  white 
gunners  who  had  seen  service  in  Manila,  manned  the 
cannon.  The  muzzle  of  the  ordnance  inclined  until 


DEPARTURE 

their  lips  opened  threateningly  over  the  boats  teetering 
in  the  surf.  Three  hundred  sharpshooters,  lent  Men- 
doza  by  Captain  Sutter,  of  New  Helvetia,  thickened  in 
the  auxiliary  battery. 

A  salvo  would  be  echoed  by  a  thousand  small  arms. 

Commodore  Billings  foresaw  certain  destruction  in 
resistance. 

As  he  was  stepping  into  the  last-departing  boat  Men- 
doza  said  to  him : 

"Because  you  came  as  conqueror  we  bid  you  go." 

In  an  hour  the  harbor  was  empty,  the  flagpoles  of 
square  and  castle  bare. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
ODDS  AND  ENDS 

SENORA  VALENTINO,  rather  pale,  was  sitting 
in  the  room  adjoining  the  treasure-chamber  of  the 
old  Spanish  governor.  Captain  Farquharson  was  op 
posite. 

"So  you  return  to  Europe  to-morrow,  Captain." 

"Yes,  sefiora,  and  glad  am  I  to  have  the  conveniences 
of  a  home-going  war  vessel.  When  do  you  go?" 

"In  a  month  or  so — some  time  in  the  latter  part  of 
October." 

"I  regret  I  was  able  to  give  your  brilliant  work  here 
such  inefficient  aid." 

"My  work  here  has  been  a  brilliant  failure,"  with  a 
little  laugh  that  was  half  a  sigh. 

"Senora,  except  for  an  altogether  unforseeable  com 
bination  of  adverse  circumstances  California  to-day 
would  be  English  territory." 

"Yes,  if  the  wind  had  not  blown ;  if  the  fog  had  not 
obscured,  and  if  night  had  not  come;  or,  to  put  it  in 
different  words,  if  Fairbanks  had  not  been  Fairbanks." 

"The  magnanimity  of  these  squadron  commanders  is 
overpowering,  Admiral  Fairbanks  having  his  equal  in 
Commodore  Billings.  Why,  the  capital  simply  rolled 


ODDS  AND  ENDS  423 

into  Billings's  hands.  Then,  he  and  Mendoza  are  seen 
in  the  castle  holding  some  sort  of  a  conference.  The 
first  thing  we  know,  the  castle  is  evacuated,  and  the  Ad 
ministrator  of  Mission  San  Jose  is  left  cock  of  the  walk." 

"That  is  history  as  it  is  written,  Captain." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"0,  nothing  of  any  consequence.  I  was  merely  think 
ing  aloud ;  that  is  all." 

"My  lady,  I  assure  you  I  was  standing  at  the  old 
parade  ground,  an  interested  spectator  of  the  exhibi 
tion  of  the  manual  of  arms,  when  the  occurrence  of 
which  I  have  spoken  took  place." 

"My  peon  friend,  Alberto,  crept  up  under  a  window, 
within  earshot  of  Commodore  Billings  and  Senor  Men 
doza  as  they  were  having  that  little  conference  of  theirs. 
What  Alberto  heard  has  cost  him  many  a  nightmare 
since." 

"Senora,  I'm  in  the  dark." 

"Well,  well,  Captain,  in  any  case,  it  is  a  closed  book 
to  us  now.  Administrator  Mendoza  has  gained  ad 
vantage  in  the  first  throw.  We'll  leave  England's 
cause  in  the  hands  of  those  whom  the  Home  Office  will 
send  out.  Who  wins  the  game  only  the  future  will 
disclose." 

"Many  will  miss  you  here,  my  lady." 

"Crisostimo  and  my  sister  go  with  me,  at  least,  as 
far  as  Spain.  Our  ship  will  round  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope,  not  Cape  Horn,  as  does  yours.  My  brother-in- 
law,  having  sent  in  his  resignation  as  official  here  to  the 
government  in  Mexico,  has  sold  his  holdings  in  Califor 
nia  to  a  company  of  which  Senor  Mendoza  is  president." 


424     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Senora,  I  referred  to  the  province  at  large.  You 
have  a  cherished  place  in  the  hearts  of  many." 

"It  is  a  delight  to  be  held  in  good  estimation.  I 
appreciate  all  the  kind  thoughts." 

"As  to  the  province  in  particular.  On  my  way  here 
I  met  Abelardo  Peralta,  in  company  with  young  Ysidro 
de  la  Barra  and  the  half-'Boston,'  Sam  Watson.  Don 
Abelardo  was  saying  he  had  laid  the  Rancho  San  An 
tonio  at  your  feet  for  the  fifth  time,  and  for  the  fifth 
time  had  found  himself  closing  your  door  from  the  out 
side,  a  rejected  suitor." 

She  smiled.  "Abelardo  is  a  dear  boy,  but  very,  very 
young." 

"De  la  Barra  and  Watson  each  declared  Morando 
stands  between  them  and  their  happiness.  They  would 
challenge  the  Captain  to  a  duel,  and,  dying  spit  by  his 
rapier,  they  would  leave  their  haciendas  to  you,  in 
touching  remembrance  of  their  devotion.  Paralta, 
on  the  contrary,  rather  scoffed,  and  said  he 
would  live,  and  see  the  soldier  Captain  leave  your  house 
biting  his  fingers  in  disappointment,  as  he  himself  had 
done." 

The  senora's  pale  face  flushed.  The  toe  of  her 
slipper  tapped  the  floor. 

"I  told  them,"  the  man  not  noticing,  went  on,  jocu 
larly,  "that  I  had  known  many  suitors  in  Europe 
leaving  you  disconsolate,  but  had  never  heard  of  any 
deaths  therefrom.  Whereupon  they  insisted  that  I 
too  am  your  suitor.  I  told  them  I  am  too  old  and  bat 
tered  for  such  a  beautiful  young  lady,  besides  having  a 
cherished  wife  at  home,  a  very  good  friend  of  the  Senora 


ODDS  AND  ENDS  425 

Valentino.  The  two  again  denounced  Morandb,  de 
claring  their  certainty  that  the  Captain  would  be  the 
victor." 

"You  are  much  interested  in  romance,  I  see,  Captain. 
Tell  me  that  old  story  connected  with  your  life  in  Dub 
lin.  You  referred  to  it  once,  and  aroused  my  interest. 
We  were  too  busy  then,  but  now  we  have  a  little  leisure 
for  diversion." 

"Doubtless  it  would  be  to  you  a  twice-told  tale." 

"Never  mind,  anyway,  Captain.  We  all  like  to  hear 
good  stories,  and  especially  from  the  lips  of  the  actor 
himself." 

"In  the  springtime  of  life  sentiment  bubbles  up,  and 
over,  with  the  most  of  us.  So  was  it  with  me. 

"Soon  after  I  received  my  commission  as  Captain  our 
regiment  was  ordered  to  Dublin.  A  young  recruit  who 
had  taken  the  queen's  shilling  was  assigned  to  the 
grenadier  company,  my  own.  A  veritable  giant  of  a 
man  he  was,  and  had  in  him  the  making  of  a  consum 
mate  soldier.  Both  of  us  saw  light  first  on  the  bank  of 
the  lordly  Shannon,  I,  in  the  hall,  he,  in  a  cottage  of 
my  father's  estate.  His  parents  still  live  in  the  old 
cottage. 

"Well,  the  giant  soldier-boy  and  I  became  almost 
chums.  I  had  just  come  from  several  gay  seasons  that 
London  gave  us,  and  I  felt  pretty  much  at  outs  with 
the  inanity  of  my  own  class.  He  was  fresh  and  original, 
and  I  had  known  him  from  childhood.  Of  course  he 
loved  a  girl.  She  was  in  domestic  service,  but  as  good 
as  gold.  I  thought  I  was  in  love  with  her  too.  But, 
pshaw !  she  had  more  sense  than  I.  Otherwise,  we 


426     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

might  have  married,  and  have  been  miserable  for  life. 
Still,  she  did  seem  a  breath  of  heaven  after  the  women 
of  my  own  set." 

"You  forgot  Lady  Matilda,"  prompted  the  sefiora, 
laughing. 

"My  wife  is  one  of  God's  good  women,  and  I  pray  we 
shall  be  able  to  rear  our  little  daughter  to  be  like  her. 
What  I  am  relating  occurred  many  years  before  I  met 
Matilda." 

"Good,  my  friend !    And  now  for  the  rest  of  the  tale !" 

"A  breach  opened,  and  widened,  between  O'Donnell 
and  me.  She  preferred  him,  you  see,  wherein  she  was 
wise. 

"Then  followed  some  words  of  mine  for  which  I  have 
always  been  sorry.  I  tried  to  make  her  believe  he 
wasn't  worthy  of  her,  and  all  that.  I  didn't  actually 
succeed,  though  she  allowed  him  to  think  I  did.  I  sup 
pose  at  the  time  she  really  did  half  believe  what  I  had 
insinuated. 

"The  young  man  stormed,  pleaded,  and  raved.  She 
seemed  not  to  heed.  One  afternoon,  on  the  parade 
ground,  I  rallied  him  harshly  for  some  error  in  the  drill 
which  was  really  most  immaterial.  Then  I  sneered  some 
beastly  words  at  him.  He  clubbed  his  carbine  and  at 
tacked  me.  I  dodged  and  a  glancing  blow  struck  my 
shoulder  and  head.  I  was  disabled  for  a  year." 

After  a  short  wait,  he  went  on : 

"And  I  deserved  what  I  received.  By  some  miracle 
O'Donnell  escaped  capture.  For  some  years  he  was  in 
South  America;  then  he  came  to  California,  went 
among  the  plains  Indians  east  of  here,  and  became  a 


ODDS  AND  ENDS  427 

mighty  sachem  among  them.  When  he  was  in  Wash 
ington,  on  some  delegation  for  the  Indians,  he  came 
under  attention  of  high  officials  of  the  United  States 
Government.  No  word  need  be  said  of  his  work  here, 
sefiora,"  with  a  laugh.  ^ 

"What  of  the  peasant  maid,  Captain?  You  are  for 
getting  her." 

"She  read  of  O'Donnell's  activities,  it  seems;  and 
learned  of  my  presence  here  through  the  same  source, 
the  newspaper.  The  inan-of-war  lately  from  England, 
which  brought  news  of  my  father's  death,  together  with 
my  accession  to  his  title  and  estates,  carried  a  letter  to 
me  from  her,  inclosing  another  to  O'Donnell.  I  de 
livered  his  letter  in  person.  I  told  him  I  am  glad  his 
old  love  is  waiting  for  him,  and  promised  when  I  get 
home  to  have  all  disability  removed,  so  he  can  return 
and  claim  his  bride.  O'Donnell  and  I  parted  on  the 
terms  of  our  old-time  friendship." 

"Why  did  not  the  girl  write  direct  to  O'Donnell  him 
self?" 

"She  was  sure  of  my  address,  but  not  of  his." 

"I  am  more  than  glad  that  your  story  has  such  a 
happy  ending." 

"I  had  come  on  O'Donnell  in  the  city  plaza.  We  were 
sitting  together  in  conversation  when  Mendoza  walked 
up  and  greeted  me  with  all  possible  cordiality,  as  a 
former  comrade-in-arms.  I  found  that  the  Administra 
tor  remembered  me  perfectly,  and  has  kept  track  of  me 
rather  closely,  the  world  over,  considering  distance  and 
isolation." 

"Did  he  know  of  your  driving  the  powder  wagons 


428     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

through  the  blazing  buildings  at  Waterloo,  when  the 
regular  postilions  had  deserted  their  charge?"  asked 
the  senora,  with  a  smile  of  admiration." 

"Yes,"  modestly.  "He  was  kind  enough  to  speak  of 
it.  When  we  left  each  other,  he  told  me  whenever 
I  return  to  California  to  make  his  house  my  own.  I 
am  glad  that  I  met  him." 

A  knock  shook  the  door. 

Colonel  Barcelo  was  outside. 

"Silvia,"  he  said,  "I  may  say  you  have  shown  your 
self  to  be  an  unusual  woman,  a  woman  of  knowledge 
and  acumen  quite  remarkable  for  your  years." 

"Come  in  and  be  seated,  Crisostimo.  Here  is  my 
friend,  Captain  Farquharson." 

"Ah,  yes.  Thank  you  for  the  chair.  Good  day, 
Captain  Farquharson,"  this  last  stiffly.  "Well,  what  I 
want  to  decide  is,  shall  I  issue  a  pardon  for  that  low- 
down  Indian,  Stanislaus?  Padre  Osuna  is  now  in  the 
reception  room  waiting  for  my  answer." 

"Does  the  padre  wish  for  this  pardon?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"It's  this  way.  Padre  Osuna  has  the  fellow  confined 
here  in  Monterey.  You  see,"  looking  at  Farquharson, 
"I'm  still  acting-governor,  and  shall  be  until  notice  ac 
cepting  my  resignation  comes  back  from  Mexico  City. 
So,  I  can  pardon  or  not,  as  I  please.  Do  you  under 
stand?"  glowering  at  the  Captain. 

"But  why  does  the  padre  ask  the  pardon  ?"  persisted 
the  senora. 

"O,  well,  he  expects  to  make  a  good  man  out  of  him, 


ODDS  AND  ENDS  429 

and  then  through  him  convert  all  those  savages  in  the 
San  Joaquin  over  whom  Stanislaus  has  become  a  sort 
of  king,  since  the  death  of  Yoscolo." 

"Surely  Padre  Osuna's  judgment  should  be  trusted  in 
the  matter,  Crisostimo." 

"Yes,  yes.  Exactly  what  has  been  in  my  mind  all 
the  time.  I'll  pardon  the  fellow.  He  told  me  the  Seno- 
rita  Mendoza  has  thrashed  all  the  bad  spirits  out  of  him, 
and  that  Padre  Osuna  has  beaten  many  good  spirits 
into  him — yes,  I'll  pardon  the  fellow.  But  there  is  one 
thing  I  never  can  forget,  and  that  is  the  way  that 
rascally  Morando  has  treated  me."  He  again  glared 
at  Farquharson,  left  the  room  and  stamped  down  the 
corridor. 

"It's  Crisostimo's  way,"  laughed  the  senora.  "Cap 
tain,  there  is  the  question  of  the  maps  in  this  chamber, 
and  those  wonderful  placer  mines." 

"Why  not  let  Twickenham,  our  consul,  take  up  the 
matter?  He  is  entirely  dependable." 

"Very  true,  Captain;  but  there  are  many  inquisitive 
eyes  about.  The  working  of  the  mine  would  mean  that 
many  may  learn  of  its  existence,  and  soon  a  deluge  of 
Americanos  come.  Then,  surely  California  would  never 
be  England's.  Let  our  successors  in  the  work  do  their 
part  without  undue  handicap.  In  quieter  times  we  will 
form  a  company,  find  the  mines  and  work  them." 

"Senora,  in  Europe  your  hand  will  be  busy  in  affairs 
of  far  greater  interest  to  the  world  than  the  future  of 
California." 

"I  shall  never  forget  California,  and  the  maps  shall 
be  safely  kept  till  such  time  as  we  wish  to  use  them." 


430     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Now,  dear  lady,  after  long  association  comes  the 
time  for  good-bys.  It  will  be  months,  at  least,  before  we 
meet  again.  Allow  me  to  express  my  gratitude  for  the 
inspiration  you  have  been  to  me  in  this  California 
work." 

"Captain,  I  thank  you  most  cordially  for  what  you 
say.  When  Lord  Bevis  Farquharson,  with  his  wife, 
Lady  Matilda,  and  their  little  daughter,  Margaret, 
come  to  London  remember  that  my  establishment  in 
Great  Curzon  Street  is  their  home." 

They  clasped  hands,  their  eyes  dimming. 

"My  lady,  do  not  forget  that  you  have  another  home 
at  Farquharson  Court." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
ACROSS   THE  YEARS 

NINE  or  ten  friars,  from  different  missions  within  a 
day's  ride,  were  in  a  room  close  by  the  living  apart 
ment  of  the  pastor,  Padre  Osuna,  of  Mission  San  Jose. 
Once  or  twice  the  padre's  voice,  in  deep  murmur,  came 
to  the  ears  of  his  waiting  confreres ;  then  it  was  silent. 
Each  time  the  others  paused  a  little,  for  his  coming, 
then  resumed  desultory  conversation. 

"Why  waits  so  long  Padre  Osuna  for  the  coming?" 
impatiently  from  Padre  Mercado,  continuing:  "We 
are  told  he  is  within,  and  even  now  once  more  I  heard 
his  voice." 

Juan  Antonio  ushered  in  Sefior  Mendoza. 

"Senors  Padres,  it  is  a  delight  to  meet  you.  I  trust 
your  various  charges  are  prospering." 

The  friars,  who  had  arisen,  exchanged  glances. 

"This  is  as  may  be,  sefior,"  from  the  padre  of  Santa 
Clara. 

Padre  Osuna  came  quietly  into  their  midst. 

"Reverend  padres,  and  Seiior  Mendoza,  I  am  late. 
A  visitor,  coming  unexpectedly  and  bringing  a  message 
of  vast  purport  to  me,  was  the  cause  of  my  detaining. 
Let  us  be  seated." 

He  continued: 

431 


432     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

"Brethren  of  my  order,  I  requested  you  here,  that 
you  might  be  listeners  of  the  proposal  Senor  Mendoza 
is  prepared  to  make.  You  know  the  missions  and  their 
requirements.  You  may  be  able  to  enlighten  him  as 
to  the  wisest  course.  Now,"  inclining  his  head  to 
Mendoza,  "we  are  ready  to  hear  you,  senor." 

The  courtly  hidalgo  bowed  in  return. 

"Senor  pastor,  and  senors  padres,  the  law  of  the 
secularization  is  spread  on  our  statute  books.  Its  ex 
tension  in  this  Mission  of  San  Jose  de  Guadalupe  has 
been  gradual,  as  you  know.  I  believe  the  time  has  come 
for  further  extension." 

He  looked  slowly  from  Osuna  to  the  others.  None  of 
the  churchmen  spoke.  He  went  on: 

"Namely,  that  each  able-bodied  Indian  of  good  char 
acter,  member  of  this  Mission,  shall  receive  a  plot  of 
land  of  sufficient  acreage  to  maintain  himself  and  his 
family;  the  land,  of  course,  to  be  taken  from  the 
leagues  still  held  by  this  Mission,  in  trust,  from  the 
Mexican  government." 

Padre  Osuna  did  not  speak. 

"The  Indians  are  but  overgrown  children,  and  are 
incapable  of  caring  for  themselves,  except  under  strict 
tutelage.  So  said  the  great  missionary,  Padre  Juni- 
pero  Serra,  and  the  years  have  shown  the  wisdom  of  his 
thought."  Thus,  Padre  Suscol,  of  Sonoma. 

"Years  ago  I  gave  each  of  my  Indians  his  piece  of 
land.  They  are  working  it  for  themselves,  and  ably. 
Padre  Junipero  spoke  of  the  issue  as  he  knew  it  sixty 
years  ago,  and  most  wise  were  his  words,  but  he  could 
not  foresee  present-day  needs,"  was  Mendoza's  reply. 


ACROSS  THE  YEARS  433 

"The  procedure  that  you  propose  will  impoverish  the 
Mission,"  remonstrated  another  friar. 

"Many  of  the  hacenderos  are  giving  each  year  a 
tithe  to  the  Mission.  Let  the  Indians  be  instructed  to 
do  the  same,  either  in  money  or  in  labor,"  rejoined 
Mendoza. 

Osuna  lifted  his  eyes.  "Why  load  this  burden  on  our 
neophytes  ?" 

"To  teach  them  the  necessity  of  self-reliance.  They 
should  become  of  age,  as  regards  development  of 
mind." 

"Their  old  teachers  should  determine  that,"  from 
Padre  Mercado. 

"The  state  determines  when  our  sons  and  daughters 
attain  their  majority,  not  we,"  from  Mendoza. 

"Why  oppress  our  neophyte  children  with  this  be 
coming  of  age  just  at  this  time?"  questioned  Osuna. 

"Because  it  is  not  a  day  too  soon.  Men  of  many 
nations  begin  to  flock  here.  Westward  the  course  of 
civilization  must  come.  It  is  destiny.  We  cannot  stay 
it.  Then,  why  not  meet  it?  We,  Spaniard  and  Indian, 
must  stand  on  our  own  feet,  accept  from  the  newcomer 
what  will  strengthen  our  moral  and  spiritual  fiber,  and 
give  back  as  much  of  ourselves  as  will  benefit  others. 
Therefore  must  we  be  self-reliant." 

The  room  was  still. 

Padre  Osuna  spoke  after  a  moment. 

"Circumstances  have  but  now  arisen  which  preclude 
me  from  giving  Sefior  Mendoza  reply.    That,  as  well  as 
the  adjustment  of  other  affairs  here,  will  have  to  fall  to 
some  one  else.     Soon  will  I  make  explanation."     Turn- 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

ing  to  Mendoza:  "Shall  I  find  the  Senor  Mendoza  at 
his  house  late  this  afternoon?" 

Mendoza  bowed.    "At  your  service,  senor  padre." 

"Brethren,  I  will  return  to  you  in  a  moment." 

The  padre  conducted  the  Administrator  down  a  long 
corridor,  into  the  courtyard,  toward  the  lodge. 

An  elderly  woman  was  walking  under  a  vine-covered 
trellis. 

"Mother,"  tenderly  from  the  friar,  "I  am  sorry  to 
keep  you  waiting;  but  there  are  many  things  to  do, 
and  only  a  short  time." 

The  snowy-haired  woman  had  advanced  a  few  steps 
to  meet  her  son.  She  stopped  abruptly.  She  was  not 
looking  at  the  padre,  but  at  Senor  Mendoza. 

"My  mother,  allow  me  to  present  to  you — "  began  the 
friar. 

"The  Lady  Romalda !"  exclaimed  Mendoza,  the  words 
clutching  his  throat. 

"Don  Jose!"  she  cried,  holding  out  her  hands,  her 
lips  trembling. 

Senor  Mendoza  took  her  hands  in  his,  and,  bending 
low,  reverently  kissed  the  finger-tips.  "Romalda! 
Romalda!" 

The  padre  looked  at  the  two  in  questioning  wonder. 
The  woman  and  the  man  seemed  to  have  slipped  the 
years  from  their  shoulders,  and  to  be  standing  again  in 
youth. 

"My  boy,"  said  the  mother,  "Colonel  Mendoza  and 
I  knew  each  other  well,  many  years  ago.  We  were  very 
dear — friends,"  moisture  dimming  her  eyes,  emotion 
halting  her  voice. 


ACROSS  THE  YEARS  435 

The  son  was  much  shaken  by  his  mother's  show  of 
feeling.  "My  beloved  mother !"  he  said,  gently  stroking 
her  hair. 

In  a  little  Sefior  Mendoza  and  the  Lady  Romalda, 
after  the  manner  of  those  long  separated,  began  speak 
ing  of  former  times.  Soon  the  padre  excused  himself, 
to  return  to  his  brethren,  leaving  his  mother  and  Senor 
Mendoza  seated  under  the  trellised  vines. 

Nothing  but  kindliness  and  tenderness  and  chivalry 
was  in  Mendoza's  heart  for  the  woman  by  his  side. 
Memories  long  forgotten  came  to  life,  under  stimula 
tion  of  the  Lady  Romalda's  presence.  Robbed  of  all 
harshness  were  those  bygone  times.  The  happy  and 
useful  life  he  had  spent  in  his  adopted  country  left  bit 
terness  no  room. 

As  for  her,  slumbering  years  and  crowding  vicissi 
tude  had  put  in  the  background,  but  had  not  quenched, 
the  affection  for  her  girlhood  lover. 

The  years  passed  under  review. 

They  spoke  of  the  parting  in  the  castle  of  her  father, 
the  Ambassador  Altamira,  of  Castile. 

"Colonel,"  she  said,  a  faint  blush  creeping  into  her 
faded  cheek,  "had  I  listened  one  moment  more  to  you 
that  day,  I  would  have  fled  to  your  arms,  and  have  left 
with  you  for  California,  though  my  father's  heart  had 
broken." 

A  surprised  exclamation  was  Mendoza's  reply. 

"You  rode  furiously  down  the  avenue.  At  the  bend, 
in  the  shadow  of  those  old  oaks,  you  stopped,  reining 
your  horse  about.  I  can  still  see  you  there.  I  hastened 
to  the  door  to  welcome  you,  thinking  you  were  about  to 


436     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

return.  My  father  bade  me  within,  but  I  obeyed  not. 
I  remained  at  the  door.  I  beckoned  you.  My  father 
made  a  scene.  Nevertheless,  once  more  I  beckoned.  I 
thought  you  saw,  but  you  galloped  away." 

"I  saw  you  not.  Grief  flooded  my  eyes.  Castle  Al- 
tamira,  your  home,  and  hallowed  by  our  courtship,  had 
been  to  me  as  a  shrine. 

"On  this  Pacific  shore  I  had  built  another  Castle 
Altamira,  laying  the  foundation  and  rearing  the  walls 
in  love.  It  embodied  my  devotion  to  you.  In  the  shadow 
of  those  oaks,  as  I  rode  away,  my  heart  was  gone  from 
me,  for  the  castle  in  Castile  was  become  but  building 
stone,  the  dona  of  the  hearth  mine  no  longer.  The  new 
home  in  this  western  world,  lacking  the  cement  of  love, 
was  worthless,  and  must  fall  in  ruins.  Had  I  seen  you 
beckoning — "  agitation  breaking  the  sentence. 

"You  would  have  returned,  Jose?" 

"Yes,  Lady  Romalda,  yes;  though  many  forbidding 
ambassador-fathers  barred  the  way,"  smiling.  "But, 
sefiora,  your  father's  intensity  of  feeling  seemed  equaled 
by  your  own." 

"The  hidalgo  is  by  nature  an  ardent  nationalist,  as 
you  know.  Born  into  that  atmosphere,  with  every  breath 
I  imbibed  its  spirit.  That  you  should  lose  this  pride 
of  nation  fired  me  with  indignation.  Yes,  Jose,  even 
when  love  forced  me  to  try  to  bring  you  back,  my  very 
soul  was  lifted  against  you.  Time,  and  the  irony  of 
fate,  revolutionized  my  views." 

They  became  silent,  their  thoughts  busy. 

"I  too  became  a  foreigner,"  she  went  on  presently, 
as  if  no  break  had  occurred  in  the  conversation. 


ACROSS  THE  YEARS  437 

She  related  her  journeying  to  Bombay  with  her 
father,  a  few  years  later,  and  of  meeting  there  a  young 
native  prince  who  was  in  part  of  Portuguese  extraction, 
his  mother  having  been  a  member  of  a  powerful  family 
of  that  nationality  residing  in  Goa. 

The  prince's  father,  a  Christian,  had  been  maharajah 
of  Rajput,  one  of  the  great  principalities  of  British 
Hindustan.  The  Mohammedan  portion  of  the  ma- 
harajahship  had  engendered  rebellion.  In  attempting 
to  suppress  it  by  armed  force  the  father  was  killed. 
The  son,  also  a  Christian,  attained  high  position  in 
English  officialdom  in  Bombay. 

This  youthful  Hindustanee,  whose  Latin  name  was 
Lusciano  Osuna  do  Castello  Branco,  became  very 
friendly  with  the  daughter  of  the  Spanish  representa 
tive,  Ambassador  Altamira,  of  Castile. 

"My  father  died  suddenly,"  said  the  Lady  Ilomalda. 
"The  prince  paid  court  and  won  my  hand.  We  were 
married. 

"My  husband  was  a  citizen  of  Great  Britain.  I  be 
came  a  British  subject  by  my  marriage.  My  son,  known 
here  as  Padre  Lusciano  Osuna,  was  born  in  Bombay, 
and  was  given  his  father's  name  in  baptism,  Lusciano 
Osuna  do  Castello  Branco." 

She  told  of  her  son's  school  days  in  England,  whither 
the  English  government  had  sent  him,  of  his  graduation 
from  a  military  academy,  and  his  return  to  India. 

"The  Mohammedan  maharajah  was  deposed  by  the 
British.  My  husband  was  placed  on  the  throne.  I  lived 
in  Rajput,  a  princess.  My  husband  fell  in  suppressing 
insurrection,  as  had  his  father  before  him.  Lusciano, 


438     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

my  son,  commanded  in  his  father's  stead,  and  through 
his  efforts  the  rebellion  was  overcome.  Great  prepara 
tions  were  under  way  to  honor  the  young  prince,  the 
present  padre,  when  he  should  take  the  throne.  Great 
Britain  promised  him  unlimited  support.  His  father's 
enemies,  even,  swore  allegiance  to  him.  All  looked  for 
ward  to  a  reign  of  prosperity  and  peace. 

"Lusciano,  always  of  strongly  religious  bent,  refused 
the  honor ;  turned  his  back  on  the  world  and  became  a 
Franciscan  novice  in  Goa.  The  people  begged  him  to 
remain  with  the  principality,  but  he  persisted  in  his 
chosen  course.  Soon  he  was  called  to  Europe.  In  a 
few  years  all  Spain  was  ringing  in  praise  of  the  brilliant 
preaching  of  the  friar  do  Castello  Branco.  His  su 
periors,  foreseeing  a  future  of  great  usefulness  for  the 
churchman,  were  about  to  make  him  a  cardinal.  The 
mystic,  the  recluse,  in  him  took  alarm,  and  he  requested 
the  British  ambassador  at  Madrid  to  use  his  influence 
to  avert  the  threatened  honor.  He  was  allowed  to  come 
to  this  province,  and  hoped  the  world  would  forget  him. 

"Grave  difficulties  have  recently  arisen  in  India,  which 
is  seething  in  rebellion.  The  people  of  Rajput,  remem 
bering  his  efficient  leadership,  are  clamoring  for  the 
return  of  Prince  do  Castello  Branco.  The  English 
premier  brought  the  matter  before  the  pope,  who  has 
issued  an  order  that  my  son  go  to  Rajput  at  once, 
ascend  the  throne,  and,  as  friar-king,  rule  for  Christian 
concord  in  the  principality.  The  British  ship  bearing 
the  order  to  Lusciano  stopped  at  Bombay  and  I  took 
passage  to  meet  my  son  and  to  see  the  countrj  which 
was  to  have  been  my  home. 


ACROSS  THE  YEARS  439 

"So,  Jose,  I  came — and  I  find  you,  an  unlooked-for 
pleasure.  I  was  told  that  you  had  obliterated  the  house 
you  had  prepared  for  me,  so  I  thought  that  long  ago 
you  had  left  this  part  of  the  world  forever." 

Mendoza  shook  his  head  slowly,  and  was  lost  in 
reverie.  At  last  he  spoke.  "My  heart  overflows  with 
rejoicing  at  this  privilege  of  hearing  your  voice  once 
more,  and  of  taking  your  hand  in  mine.  Time  touches 
you  lightly,  Romalda." 

"And  you,  also,  my  Don  Jose,  of  the  erect  shoulders 
and  stalwart  form." 

There  under  the  arbor,  with  the  busy  life  of  the 
Mission  going  on  about  them,  they  talked  until  the 
long  shades  came. 

It  was  not  until  Padre  Osuna  stood  by  their  side  and 
said,  "Madre  mia,  the  twilight  must  chill  thee  after  the 
warmth  of  Rajput,"  that  they  parted. 

Matronas  attended  the  mother,  while  the  friar  con 
ducted  Mendoza  to  the  lodge  gate. 

"Seiior,"  he  said,  "I  have  advised  my  brethren  to 
resist  secularization  by  every  means  within  their  power. 
Were  it  possible  for  me  to  remain  as  head  of  this  Mis 
sion  I  would  fight,  to  the  last,  the  proposed  encroach 
ment." 

The  neighboring  hacenderos  vied  among  themselves 
to  do  honor  to  the  Princess  do  Castello  Branco,  guest 
of  the  province.  The  days  came  and  went  in  delightful 
companionship. 

Finally,  the  time  for  the  homeward  journey  had 
arrired.  The  British  ship  was  sailing  out  of  San  Fran 
cisco  harbor,  on  the  afternoon  tide. 


440     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Lady  Romalda  and  Senor  Mendoza  were  standing  on 
the  forward  deck,  looking  out  over  the  vast,  restless 
sea.    She  was  talking  rapidly.   He  spoke  little. 
.   The  vessel  began  pitching  on  the  swells  that  precede 
the  bar. 

It  was  the  moment  of  parting. 

They  stood,  hands  clasped.  The  lady's  eyes  were 
streaming.  The  Administrator's  good-by  broke  in  his 
voice. 

A  boat  was  lowered  over  the  side,  and  Senor  Men 
doza  was  rowed  to  the  fort. 

The  ship  gathered  headway,  crossed  the  bar,  and  lost 
itself  in  the  horizon  of  the  ocean. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
A  WEDDING 

MERRILY  rang  the  chimes  in  the  old  belfry  of  the 
Mission  church  of  San  Jose  de  Guadalupe. 
"Come!  Come!  Come!  Come,  Come!"  the  call  sounded 
far  out  into  the  valley  shimmering  in  the  green  of 
springtide. 

"Come!  Come!  Come!  Come,  Come!"  echoed  the 
hills. 

Pigeons,  denizens  of  the  church  tower,  flew  in,  and 
out,  and  around,  the  whirring  of  their  wings  sounding 
above  the  resonance  of  the  bells,  in  the  intervals  of  their 
summoning  notes.  Flocks  darted  into  the  air,  circled 
for  a  moment,  then  disappeared,  as  if  bearing  away 
urgent  messages.  Others  dropped  from  emptiness, 
clung  to  the  gargoyles  on  the  belfry  corners,  and,  in 
low  cooings,  told  some  story. 

"We  are  coming!  coming!  coming!"  came  in  refrain 
from  many  footbeats.  Men  and  women  from  through 
out  the  entire  province  were  gathering  on  the  eastern 
slope  of  Santa  Clara  Valley  that  bright  spring  morning. 

The  Vallejos,  of  the  North,  came;  their  ladies  were 
there,  and  their  sons  and  their  daughters,  personifica 
tions  of  the  intellect,  the  valor,  the  virtue  and  the 
beauty  which  glorified  the  valley  of  the  Moon  Gold  and 
silver  bespangled  their  horses'  bridles,  hung  as  pendants 

441 


442     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOS£ 

from  the  bridlereins,  inlaid  the  stirrups,  and  gilded  the 
saddles  from  high  pommel  in  the  front  to  long  anquera 
reaching  back  to  crupper. 

Gold  lace  adorned  the  hatbands  and  decorated  the 
ponchos  of  the  men,  while  gold  spurs  clicked  at  their 
heels.  Silk  and  satin  embellished  senoritas  beautiful 
and  senoras  handsome.  Peons  and  peonas,  jigging 
after  their  masters  on  horses  clean-limbed  and  swift, 
were  bravely  attired  as  for  a  fiesta. 

The  Picos  rode  in  from  the  South,  with  retinue  as 
splendid  as  that  of  their  Sonoma  rivals,  their  Gallic 
heritage  showing  in  the  harmony  and  luxuriousness  of 
color  in  poncho  and  gowning. 

Jose  Antonio  Carillo  escorted  representatives  of  his 
family  along  the  Camino  Real,  through  San  Jose 
pueblo,  on  to  San  Jose  Mission,  four  leagues  away 
toward  the  setting  sun. 

The  Bandinis  followed  the  de  la  Guerras.  The  Au- 
guellos  and  the  Malarins  paced  side  by  side.  The  busy 
bee  of  politics  buzzed  in  vain  in  the  cap  of  Juan  de 
Bautista  Alvarado,  for  the  active  brain  beneath  was 
under  the  spell  of  superior  attraction  in  Mission  San 
Jose,  and  the  man  hastened  thither  faster  than  if  the 
governor's  chair  awaited  him  there. 

Sefior  Castro,  the  steadfast,  flanked  his  friend  Senor 
Alvarado,  and  looked  about  complacently,  contentment 
complete,  since  his  equipment  equaled  any  present. 

The  "Bostons,"  allied  to  the  Spanish  families,  were 
there,  as  Latin  in  dress  and  manner  as  the  Spaniards 
themselves. 

"Come!  Come!  Come,  Come!"  the  bell  kept  saying. 


A  WEDDING  443 

"Come,  to  the  nuptials  of  the  Senorita  Carmelita  Men- 
doza  and  the  Sefior  Alfredo  Morando." 

Mission  San  Jose  lay  nestling  in  verdure.  The  vine 
yards  pointed  their  budding  tendrils  low,  their  gentler 
tints  soft  against  the  darker  leaves  of  the  olive  groves. 

Orange  orchards  rioted  in  magnificence  on  the  sunny 
slopes.  The  tree  foliage,  shot  through  with  the  waxy 
petals  of  next  year's  promise,  half  hid  the  golden  balls 
of  this  year's  harvest  still  awaiting  the  gathering  hand. 

Almond  trees,  as  yet  showing  never  a  leaf,  were  be 
clouded  by  their  snowy  flowerings  into  vast  pillars. 

Gentle  breezes  rose  and  fell.  Soft  blossom-showers 
whitened  the  ground,  eddied  around  parent  tree-trunk, 
or  crept  to  modest  hiding  place  amidst  the  grass-blades. 

Everywhere  the  odor  of  growing  things  loaded  the 
air  with  sweet  messages.  Myriad  flower-breaths  floated 
through  open  doors  and  windows,  dropping  fragrant 
tribute  in  hacienda  house  and  cloistered  corridor. 

People  in  throngs,  eager  with  expectancy,  held  the 
street  fronting  on  the  Mendoza  hacienda  house.  Mas 
ters  of  ceremony  opened  a  wide  lane  from  mansion  to 
church.  The  Spanish  gentry  fringed  either  side;  de 
tachments  of  soldiers,  in  serried  rank,  stood  next ;  back 
of  them,  overflowing  to  the  very  limits  of  the  village, 
crowded  other  residents  of  the  valley. 

The  deep-throated  organ  within  the  church  began  to 
voice  its  monologue.  The  conversation  of  hidalgos  fell 
to  whisper ;  the  chatter  of  peons  and  peonas  hushed. 

The  great  gate  of  the  courtyard  swung  open  wide. 
Through  the  archway,  on  a  palfrey  white  as  milk,  came 
the  daughter  of  the  de  la  Mendoza.  Her  mount,  true 


444     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

to  the  strain  of  his  forebears  in  far-away  Arabia,  cara 
coled  to  and  fro,  and  ambled  forward  slowly,  step  by 
step,  as  if  to  show  the  perfection  that  California  could 
breed  in  priceless  horseflesh.  His  mane  flowed  into  the 
trappings  on  his  breast;  his  streaming  tail  almost 
touched  the  ground. 

Carmelita,  gowned  in  white,  rode  stately,  as  became 
the  princess  that  she  well  might  be.  The  wreath  of 
orange  bloom  clinging  above  her  forehead  would  have 
made  a  fitting  diadem.  The  folds  of  her  bridal  robe 
fell  entrancingly  about  her.  With  eyes  cast  down, 
cheeks  aglow,  she  passed  along,  the  fairest  bride  Santa 
Clara  Valley  ever  saw ;  no  small  claim,  indeed,  for  hers 
was  a  time  and  she  of  a  race  wherefrom  beautiful 
women  sprang  in  plenty. 

Here  bridesmaids  followed  in  double  file,  their  horses 
white,  every  one ;  their  apparel,  the  delicate  pink  of  the 
first  flush  of  dawn,  the  result  of  skillful  needlewomen 
through  many  a  day. 

Lolita  Hernandez,  pretty  and  piquant,  was  side  by 
side  with  Lucinda  Higuera,  demure  and  handsome.  Al- 
freda  Castro,  with  raven  hair  showing  beneath  her  satin 
head-covering,  moved  along  with  Tula  Laynez,  gray- 
eyed,  blonde-cheeked,  and  saucy  as  a  sparrow.  Palmita 
Peralta,  with  cherry  lips  ever  smiling,  was  paired  with 
Leopolda  Estudillo,  of  the  starry  eyes. 

The  bride  has  reached  the  church  steps. 

Deftly  her  feet  disengage  themselves  from  the  silken 
loops  used  for  stirrup;  nimbly  she  reaches  ground. 
Quickly  the  following  senoritas  are  at  her  side,  while 
peon  grooms  lead  away  the  horses. 


A  WEDDING  445 

"Viva !  Viva !  The  Senorita  Mendoza !    Viva !  Viva !" 

Then  from  some  one:  "Viva!  the  Sefiorita  dona's 
bridesmaids !" 

"Ah !  Ah !  Look !"  cried  many. 

Morando,  on  coal-black  steed,  came  through  the  gate 
and  slowly  to  the  church  door.  Comandante  of  all  Cali 
fornia  he  was  now,  promotion  from  guardian  of  pueblo 
San  Jose  to  post  commander  at  Yerba  Buena  having 
been  succeded  by  transfer  to  Monterey  presidio;  and, 
finally,  came  the  command  of  all  the  land  forces. 

With  him  rode,  as  groomsmen,  the  presidio  com 
manders  of  Yerba  Buena,  of  Monterey,  of  Santa  Bar 
bara,  and  of  San  Diego,  and  accompanied  by  many 
caballeros. 

Senor  Mendoza,  now  Governor  Mendoza,  was  horsed 
on  old  Mercurio  falling  into  years,  still  peerless  for 
speed  in  all  the  valley.*  Flanked  by  members  of  his 
council  and  the  junta  departmental  the  Governor  made 
his  way  up  to  the  church.  With  sweeping  gesture  of  his 
bridle-rein,  to  the  right  and  to  the  left,  he  gave  salute 
for  salute  to  the  waiting  grandees,  as  he  passed  along. 

Up  the  aisle,  decorated  with  innumerable  Castilian 
roses  intertwined  with  ivy,  came  Carmelita,  on  her 
father's  arm,  orange  blossoms  clustered  in  her  hand, 
her  bridesmaids  well  in  the  lead. 

The  organ  swelled  in  notes  of  rejoicing. 

Directly  before  the  senorita  went  two  little  girls, 
clad  in  white,  backing  slowly  altarward,  as  she  ad 
vanced.  Freshly  gathered  rose-petals,  handful  by 
handful,  they  showered  before  her,  making  a  pathway 
sweetly  yielding  as  she  trod. 


446     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

Captain  Morando,  awaiting  his  bride,  stood  at  the 
altar  gate,  in  uniform,  his  poncho  laid  aside,  his  brother 
officers  attending  him. 

Bride  and  groom  knelt  within  the  sanctuary. 

Neophyte  Indian  acolytes  swung  censers.  Incense 
hung  in  the  air,  tingling  the  nostrils  with  its  Oriental 
perfume,  while  the  many  candles  glowed  through  the 
maze  like  burnished  spear-points. 

As  the  clergy  solemnly  intoned  the  nuptial  service, 
the  choir,  a  hundred  strong,  of  Indian  men  and  women 
touchingly  gave  back  its  responses.  The  melody  of 
Pepita's  voice  flooded  nave  and  chancel,  love  for  her 
mistress  the  inspiration. 

An  instant's  pause.    Every  breath  stilled. 

With  hands  upraised  over  bride  and  groom  stood  the 
officiating  padre.  "Whom,  therefore,  God  hath  joined 
together  let  no  man  put  asunder." 

Down  the  aisle  husband  and  wife  led  bridesmaid  and 
groomsman,  governor,  council,  and  junta  departmental. 

Muskets  crashed,  as  they  crossed  the  street;  the 
multitude  shouted  congratulations ;  the  hills  above  them 
lived  in  medley  of  reiterated  acclaimings  of  good  will. 

At  the  wedding  breakfast  words  dripped  like  honey 
from  the  mouth  of  Senor  Alvarado,  as  he  spoke  of  the 
lovely  bride.  Grave  Castro  smiled  approbation;  the 
clever  Carillo  applauded ;  his  ally,  Don  Pio  Pico,  cried 
aloud,  "Bon  !  Bon !  Buena !"  Even  Alvarado's  saturnine 
enemy,  the  half-Sicilian,  Di  Vestro,  clapped  his  hands, 
as  the  senor,  the  honey-drip  becoming  torrential  elo 
quence,  said:  "For  the  kiss  of  such  a  bride  as  the 
Senora  Morando,  gladly  would  I  again  drive  that  Mexi- 


A  WEDDING 

can  usurper,  Micheltorena,  from  California  soil;  yes, 
and  every  follower  he  has !" 

"Will  you!  Will  you!"  exclaimed  the  young  wife, 
blushing  at  mention  of  the  new  name.  Stepping  up,  she 
kissed  squarely  the  Senor  Alvarado,  her  mother's 
brother. 

"A  challenge !  A  challenge !"  from  the  guests.  "The 
former  governor  at  last  has  found  a  nut  he  cannot 
crack.  Aha !  Alvarado,  thy  kinswoman  is  ever  quicker 
in  retort  than  thou." 

The  tall  politician  bowed  gently  to  the  Seiiora  Dona 
Carmelita. 

"If  you  draw  them  hither,  mi  querida,  no  power  of 
mine  could  budge  them  a  single  inch." 

"Well  said!    Well  said!" 

Later  came  the  afternoon  barbecue  in  the  foothills. 
Dozens  of  beeves  were  roasting  in  deep  pits,  on  live- 
coals,  the  outdoor  sports  of  early  California  first  whet 
ting  the  appetite  for  the  feast. 

Bonfire  blazed  red  against  crag  and  forest  that  night, 
as  peon  and  peona  continued  the  repast,  and  danced 
the  fandango  to  the  music  of  guitar,  and  the  surprised 
cries  of  catamount  and  wolf. 

At  the  hacienda  house  the  Senor  and  Senora  Morando 
danced  in  the  contra  danza  amidst  the  plaudits  of  the 
lookers-on. 

Senor  Mendoza,  threescore  and  ten  and  one,  led 
forth  the  lithe  Francesca  Sanchez,  and  never  youth 
tripped  a  lighter  step  than  did  the  governor  of  Califor 
nia  at  his  daughter's  wedding. 

Pio  Pico,  gallant  and  graceful,  placed  his  hat  on  a 


448     THE  BRIDE  OF  MISSION  SAN  JOSE 

senorita's  head,  and  they  followed  Mendoza  and  his 
partner. 

Alvarado  and  Castro,  Pedro  Zelaya  and  Abelardo 
Peralta  found  ladies  and  joined ;  so  did  de  la  Barra,  and 
Higuera,  Salvador  Vallejo  and  Nazario  Dominguez, 
until,  as  some  said,  California  north,  and  south,  and 
center,  was  united,  if  only  for  the  contra  danza. 

Small  hours  found  the  gaiety  undiminished,  for  mid 
night  supper  strengthened  for  further  dancing.  Neither 
was  one  day  deemed  sufficient  to  do  adequate  honor  to 
the  marriage  of  Carmelita  Mendoza  and  Comandante 
Morando. 

Next  day  the  couple,  the  Governor  Mendoza,  and  all 
friends  repaired  to  the  hacienda  house  of  Fulgencio 
Higuera,  two  leagues  away,  to  dance  and  to  make  merry 
till  the  break  of  another  morning. 

The  third  day  was  passed  with  Sefior  Berryessa,  near 
pueblo  San  Jose,  the  following  at  Marco  Calderon's, 
and  so  on. 

The  seventh  day  found  them  entering  the  porte  co- 
chere  of  their  own  home,  once  the  residence  of  Colonel 
Barcelo,  from  whose  gates,  ere  many  moons,  they  were 
to  see,  with  rejoicing  hearts,  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
burst,  in  unending  vigil,  over  government  house,  plaza 
and  castle. 

Long  years,  and  happy  ones,  they  lived,  and  their 
descendants,  now  of  the  third  and  fourth  generation, 
bless  their  memory,  and  tell  of  the  honor,  the  bravery, 
the  virtue  of  General  Morando  and  his  bride  of  Mission 
San  Jose. 


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